Smoke and Mirrors
by Chip-n-Dale
Summary: After Harry and Voldemort disappear, a depressed Hermione desires nothing more than a place to forget herself. She believes she's found a simpler time, that is, until she meets Tom Riddle. It is then that she learns appearances can be deceiving. HGTR
1. A Hero's Death

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter, or any other related subjects. As you know, this is all owned by the wonderful JK Rowling.

**A/N:** This is our first fan fiction, so please let us know how we're doing! The first chapter will be a bit shorter than the others, and also more depressing. Don't worry, the story will pick up and get happier soon. Updates should be weekly, but as college students, our schedules can get hectic, and unfortunately, school always comes first. So without further ado…

_Smoke and Mirrors_

Chapter 1

"A Hero's Death"

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_Why did everything have to go so wrong? Nobody was supposed to die…at least not yet. They weren't supposed to disappear; and He, He wasn't supposed to find them, not until they destroyed the very last one…_

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May 20th 1998

Standing in the entrance of the Great Hall, Hermione Granger shook her head in disbelief. Having been completely transformed in the last three days, the once familiar room was unrecognizable. The four house tables had been pushed against the walls and in their place stood a singular wooden table. She sighed, remembering the times when the hall had been so cheerful and full of life. Now an overwhelming sense of sorrow hung heavy in the air, and the silence was deafening. A stifled sob woke Hermione from her reverie, reminding her of why she was here, and what she had to do. A frail looking witch was standing at the far end of the hall, hunched over a body that Hermione recognized as a Hufflepuff second year. She made her way over to the sobbing woman, and placed a hand sympathetically on her shoulder.

"Shhh…." Hermione soothed, her voice barely above a whisper, "he died a hero's death."

The witch continued to cry. "He was just…so… young," she choked between her tears.

"There, there, it'll be alright," she said calmly, spotting yet another bereaved Witch entering the hall, "I'll get someone to help you." Sighing once again, Hermione left the woman grieving over her dead son.

She made her way back to the front of the hall, passing by the dozens of dead bodies lined up on the table. Each was covered by their respective house banner, creating an odd sort of tablecloth. Why had so many innocent bystanders been killed? They hadn't meant for any of this to happen…

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_They had been in the library when they heard the first screams. All thoughts of finding the last horcrux had been wiped from their minds as they tore through the corridors and out onto the grounds. The high-pitched laughter could only mean one thing: that Voldemort had discovered what they'd done to Nagini. Harry darted away towards the source of the laughter, while she and Ron had desperately tried to protect the castle. She watched in horror as one by one, the students fell._

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Hermione reached the woman, and saw that it was Neville's grandmother. "Mrs. Longbottom," she started, "I'm so sorry."

"Ms. Granger," she replied curtly, "there is no need to apologize. I couldn't be more proud of him. He finally followed in his parents' footsteps."

"We're all proud of him, Mrs. Longbottom. Would you like to see him now?"

"Yes, thank you."

Hermione led the way to where she knew Neville's body was resting. She walked up to the red and gold banner, and smiled for a moment, knowing that he had shown true Gryffindor bravery. She pulled back the banner to reveal his lifeless face.

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_Inevitably, they were losing the battle. How could a group of inexperienced students possibly stand a chance against dozens of trained Death Eaters? Even though Order members had arrived on the scene shortly after Voldemort, no one was prepared for this attack. Hermione dodged curses as she made her way over to where Harry and Voldemort were dueling. Not paying attention to the ground, she tripped and fell over a body. Her attention, however, was immediately drawn to a young boy backing up against a tree. As a Death Eater closed in on him, the boy sunk to the ground and started to cry. He was about to be killed when Neville Longbottom pushed through a crowd of people, and ran between him and the curse. His body was strangely illuminated by the bolt of green light before he crumpled and fell to the ground. Hermione bit back a scream as she stared at her friend's dead body._

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Mrs. Longbottom's eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to miss him," she remarked softly. She thanked Hermione quietly, and left with Neville's body.

As the day wore on, Hermione continued to help countless families find their deceased loved ones. Some came to her resigned to the fact that they would never see their child again, while others sobbed openly, Hermione providing a shoulder to cry on. She knew their pain, for many of her loved ones were lying in this hall as well. It was hard to believe that so many of her classmates were gone. Now, Hermione no longer distinguished between friends and enemies; they were all equal in her eyes and she was truly sorrowed by their deaths. At one point, she noticed a tuft of silvery-blond hair poking out from under a Slytherin banner. She paused for a moment, and felt remorse at knowing that no one would be collecting this body. At sunset, Hermione left the Great Hall. After being surrounded by grief and despair all day, she needed the solace of her two best friends. Unfortunately, she knew that when she went outside, she would only find the comfort of one.

She was halfway across the entrance hall when Professor McGonagall came down the marble staircase.

"Ms. Granger, could you wait a moment?" she asked, striding across the room. Hermione stopped and turned, catching McGonagall's eye.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked. Hermione noticed that the battle had also taken its toll on the Headmistress of Hogwarts. McGonagall had a haggard look about her; her hair was disheveled and falling from its bun, her robes were wrinkled, and her face was lined with anxiety. She was no longer the composed professor of two years ago, but rather, a weary woman.

"Hermione, I'd like to thank you for all that you've done lately," she said, "you've been such a great help; I don't know what we would have done without you."

"It's no problem," Hermione insisted, "really, Professor, I don't mind at all. It helps me keep my mind off things…" Her voice trailed off.

"Well, I just want you to know I'm here if you need anything."

Hermione shifted her weight uncomfortably. Although she didn't want to admit it, she did need McGonagall's help, she needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Yet she wondered how to tell her professor everything that was bothering her: her depression at losing her parents, her friends, so many people she had loved like family. How could she describe the haunted look the grounds now had, or the vivid recollections of the battle constantly drifting across her mind? Would McGonagall even understand her feelings of injustice; that this shouldn't happen to any eighteen year old? What about her feeling of impeding hopelessness… Yet, she found it impossible to unburden herself on a woman just as overwhelmed as she was; the past year had not taken kindly to McGonagall.

"Thanks Professor, but I'll be fine," Hermione said and with a small smile she turned and strode out the entrance hall.


	2. Window on the World

**Disclaimer:** You know we don't own anything.

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Window on the World

Hermione shuddered as she descended the stone steps. In the dim light the grounds looked just as empty and void of life as the Great Hall; the battle had made its mark here, too. The little grass that wasn't torn up was trampled, and ditches sat collecting water where spells had blasted away earth. A few trees were torn up by the roots, and although it was almost dark now, she could still make out the blood staining the path to the lake. Searching for a glint of red hair, Hermione's eyes wandered past the rubble that had once been Hagrid's hut. She stared for a moment, picturing the blast that had caused the building to crumble. At last Hermione tore her gaze from the wreckage, and scanned the lakeside for Ron. She could just make out his figure, slumped against a beach tree, and, comforted by the sight of her best friend, she began to walk towards him.

As Hermione approached Ron, she could see his body was tense. His knees were bent and pulled close to his chest, while his head rested in his hands. Ron did not notice Hermione as she walked up to him, for he was lost in thought as he gazed intently across the lake.

"Ron," she called softly as she stood a few feet away, "how are you?"

He shrugged, still staring across the lake.

"Ron…" Hermione continued.

He turned around to face her. His eyes were glazed, and she could detect traces of tears on his cheeks. "Hermione," he said suddenly, "let's fly to Spain."

"On a _broom_…?" She asked incredulously. "Wait…Ron, what are you talking about?"

"I dunno, I've just always wanted to see Spain. Don't you want to go with me?"

Hermione sat down beside him. "Ron, we can't just up and go like that."

"Why not? There's nothing left here for us. Besides," he added with a grin "I've always wanted to see a bull fight."

"We can't run away from our problems, however tempting Spain and its bull fights may be…"

"Don't forget the food," Ron interjected.

She smirked. "And the food. But really, we can't; we have to say here. What if Harry comes back?" These last were spoken barely above a whisper.

Ron glanced nervously at the sky. "We can't spend our lives waiting around for Harry. He'd want us to keep living."

Hermione stood up and started to pace. "But you know, they'll find them soon, Lupin and McGonagall…they've been working tirelessly, and I've, I've been to the library. There has to be a way to get Harry back."

Ron grabbed her wrist, "Hermione, no one has a lead, we don't know anything, and it could be years before Harry gets back, if…"

"Ronald Weasly don't you dare say that. Harry will come back."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I just don't want us to waste our time here. Life could end at any moment. Look around you…"

Hermione gave a small chuckle. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be the rational one Ron."

"I'm not being rational," he snorted. "After everything that's happened, I don't...I don't want to pine over those I've lost. I'd much rather, and I'm sure they would too, that I keep living and doing the things I've always wanted to do."

"I guess you're right, but I still can't believe this has happened. Each night I go to sleep hoping to wake up and find I've been dreaming, but each morning I'm disappointed." She ran her hands through her hair and looked Ron straight in the eyes. "You've had more time to cope with this than I have, Ron. You lost your family months ago; I've only just found out about mine. Give me some time and I'll be alright; at least, I hope I'll be alright. Just be waiting for me for when I come around, okay?"

"Sure thing." He smiled and stretched out on the grass. "I think I'm going to hang out here, watch the stars come out, you know. Want to stay with me?

"No, I think I'm going to head back in."

"Alright," he replied, sounding slightly disappointed. "See you in the common room then?"

"Yeah, see you in the common room."

Ron watched Hermione go, thinking that if anybody had to be left with him, he was glad it was her.

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Hermione walked back up to the castle alone, feeling even more depressed than before. Talking to Ron had not helped at all; she thought that he, out of all people, would understand, but he was acting strange. Hermione tried to make sense out of Ron's sudden level-headedness. Sure, the battle had upset him, but he hadn't been caught off-guard. Most of his family – Fred, George, Mr. Weasley, and Bill – had all been killed in Diagon Alley a few months ago.

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_It had been Christmas Eve. Ron, Ginny, Harry, Mrs. Weasly, Fleur and Hermione had all been decorating the Christmas tree at the Burrow as they waited for the rest of the family to arrive. Hermione was relieved that, for once, Harry was at ease. Instead of worrying about Horcruxes, he was chatting happily with the others and singing Christmas carols. Suddenly, Charlie had burst into the room, looking horrified. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, stunned by Charlie's appearance; his robes were torn and he had scratches on his arms and face. He slowly walked across the room, sat down in a chair, and put his face in his hands. No one dared to say anything. After a few tense moments, he looked up, his face pale. With a broken voice, he told them the bad news. _

_Only an hour ago, a dozen death eaters had stormed Diagon Alley, attacking everyone in sight. An injured witch had told Charlie that Fred and George had immediately rushed out to help, but died before Order members arrived. By the time Charlie had apparated with his father and Bill, even more people had died. With enough reinforcement though, they were eventually able to drive off the Death Eaters; however, by this point most were injured or dead. Charlie paused for a moment, apparently unable to continue. Mrs. Weasly clung to him, begging for information about her husband and eldest child. Taking a deep breath, Charlie shook his head, confirming her worst fear. Mr. Weasly and Bill had not survived the battle. _

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Hermione could still remember the sob that had escaped Ginny and the way Mrs. Weasley had stood shaking in anguish. She could still picture the look of horror on Ron's face that had mirrored Charlie's. She would never forget that face… So, Hermione knew that Ron had been given a chance to grieve; perhaps this was why he did not seem as upset over Ginny and Charlie's recent deaths. _I'm being foolish_, she thought to herself. _Why should I expect Ron to be in the same stage of grief as I am? I'm just being selfish. _Now, in addition to being grief-stricken, she was angry with herself for acting so childish. She scowled and quickened her pace. Soon though, the anger evaporated and left her feeling restless. Hermione was almost at the Gryffindor common room when she decided she'd rather not see anyone. Instead, she decided to walk around some more, before turning in. Unsure of where to go, she began to wander down the corridors aimlessly.

Hermione felt so unsettled; nothing was right anymore. Her whole world had shattered, and she wanted nothing more than to find a place in which she could lose herself. She certainly wasn't finding that place here. Hermione continued to walk around, deep in thought. Intent on forgetting who she was and everything that had happened to her, she didn't initially notice the door that had appeared on her left. After a moment, though, she looked up and gasped in recognition: it was the Room of Requirement. Hermione stared at the door nervously. What could possibly be behind that door that could help her with her problems? She knew no spell could wake the dead, but could the room make her lose her memory? Figuring she had nothing to lose, Hermione extended her hand toward the handle, grasped it, and turned it open.

She stopped and stared at the sight of the room. Inside was an exact replica of…her dorm room? Hermione was confused; why would she need another dorm room? She wasn't _that_ tired. Still in shock, she began to scrutinize her surroundings. Everything seemed exactly the same; there were the three beds with their scarlet hangings, the tall, matching wardrobes, and even her personal belongings. She inspected her bed more closely. It was exactly how she left it that morning. Thoroughly bewildered, she walked over to the window and stared outside. What she saw was the most perplexing of all.

For one, it was daylight. Hadn't it just been twilight a few minutes ago? Could she be losing her mind? But wait – none of the trees were uprooted, and the grounds looked perfectly kempt. There were no ditches, or bloodstains on the grass. Even stranger were the dozens of students milling around in the sun. Hermione shivered. How could this be possible? Few students were left at Hogwarts, and none of them would be enjoying themselves like this. She could see smiles on these faces… they looked happy. None of them seemed worried or distraught, and no one was crying. This couldn't be her Hogwarts. Although disconcerted, Hermione was transfixed; she couldn't tear her gaze from this scene of tranquility. As the hours passed, she longed to reach this place. She wanted to hear the shouts of laughter, to feel sun on her face, and to smell the freshly cut grass. Above all, though, Hermione wanted to know that it was real.

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**A/N: **Thanks to snarkybookworm and Schermionie for the reviews! And a special thanks to Jess for helping us edit Chapter 2. Oh yeah, and don't forget to keep the reviews coming… 


	3. Shattered Dreams

**Disclaimer:** If we owned Harry Potter, we wouldn't be posting this story on Fanfiction.

**A/N:** Sorry about the long wait – we've been busy with midterms and other exams. Hopefully we've made up for it with an extra long chapter. Thanks to all of our reviewers; you really make our day! And once again, a special thanks to Jess for editing.

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Shattered Dreams

She visited the room daily. Hermione wasn't sure why it was so comforting, or what it was showing her, but she didn't care. Looking through the window made her forget everything, and that was all that mattered. Besides, no one seemed to notice that she was being distant lately. After all, everyone was still preoccupied with the aftermath of the battle; everyone, it seemed, except for Ron. Indeed, Ron had noticed her extended absences, and was beginning to ask questions.

One morning at breakfast he asked her, "So Hermione, are you going to be around today, or do you have…_plans_?"

Hermione didn't say anything as she pushed her food around her plate.

"Hermione, did you hear me?"

"Huh?" She looked up. "Oh yeah…I have plans. Speaking of which, I have to go." She stood up abruptly, and with a brief wave, started to leave the Great Hall.

"Hermione," Ron called. He also stood up, and began to follow her. "What's going on?"

She looked over her shoulder, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you keep running off. Where are you going?" He narrowed his eyes and grabbed her arm as she hurried up the marble staircase. "And can you slow down? I'm having trouble keeping up with you."

"Sorry," she mumbled, slowing her pace. "This isn't a good time, Ron; can we talk later?" Hermione couldn't believe Ron was being so thick. Couldn't he see that she wanted to be alone?

"I don't want to talk to you later; I want to talk to you now. Besides, you still haven't answered my question. Where are you off to?"

She sighed, exasperated, "Nowhere important, Ron." Well, at least nowhere important to_ him_, she thought to herself. Ron wouldn't understand how the room comforted her, especially when he couldn't do so himself. He wouldn't be able to understand what it meant to her.

Hermione was jogging again. Trying to keep up with her, Ron pushed through a group of third years huddled near the top of the staircase, and tripped. "Hermione," he called out again, trying to regain his balance. He stumbled down the corridor and managed to draw level with Hermione once again. "It has to be _somewhere_ important; you've been disappearing a lot lately," he said pointedly.

"It's really none of your business, Ron."

"Come on, Hermione. Tell me," he insisted.

She whipped around angrily and snapped. "I told you, it's none of your business. Now leave me alone!" Why did he have to be so difficult? Honestly, any other person would take the hint.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and watched as Hermione continued down the hall. "Sorry, I'm just starting to worry about you, that's all."

Hermione paused halfway down the corridor. "You don't need to," she said simply. She stared at the ground as if contemplating the situation. After a moment, she looked back up at Ron, and could tell he was hurt. "Fine," she sighed, her anger ebbing away. "I'll tell you everything tonight. I promise."

He nodded, apparently satisfied. "Okay then, we'll talk later."

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Hermione turned the corner with a quick look over her shoulder to make sure Ron wasn't following her. She was relieved to see him turn and walk in the opposite direction, and thankfully, the rest of the corridor was deserted. Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, she continued walking toward the Room of Requirement. She knew Ron was concerned about her, but she didn't really care. Actually, it was rather annoying. She just wanted to be left alone. Why did he insist on knowing about every aspect of her life?

When Hermione reached the Room of Requirement though, all thoughts of Ron disappeared. Almost mechanically, she dropped her bag on the floor, and walked over to the window.

The scene before her was the same as usual: a beautiful summer's day. She could tell by the way the students were lounging about that it was near the end of term, and exams were over. Dozens were sprawled out across the grass and some were cooling their feet off in the lake. They all seemed so happy and carefree. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy; she longed to be out there with them.

She glanced around. Some dolt was showing off his muscles on the side of the lake as he prepared to dive in, while a few girls sat giggling under a nearby tree. Not too far away, a girl sat pouring over a huge textbook. She looked up to say hi to two girls carrying broomsticks. They chatted for a moment and then walked off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, laughing. Even a group of sullen-looking boys were sprawled out across the grass, enjoying the weather.

Hermione's eyes wandered some more. It was the same everywhere: people were having fun. So, she was surprised when a boy walked by seeming indifferent to everything. He walked briskly over to a tree, barely acknowledging anyone he passed, and sat down facing Hermione's window. There, he opened a book and began to read.

His face was obscured, but from what she could see, he had a pale, pointed face, and dark hair. At first he looked expressionless, though as Hermione watched, she realized he was merely disguising other emotions. Over time he began to let his guard down; his mask melted away, and it was replaced by a look of frustration and discontent. Hermione couldn't understand this: why was he so upset when everyone else seemed so happy? Yet she could sympathize with him all the same; she had also been wearing a mask as of late. She was so depressed, and no one knew. But what was the point of talking about it? She had already tried with Ron, and that proved to be futile; and if he couldn't help her, no one else around here could.

The longer Hermione watched this boy, the more she knew that he could help. He seemed so much like her, and looked so familiar; maybe he had also lost someone close to him. Regardless of what it was, though, Hermione knew that if she talked to him, he would understand.

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Hours later, Hermione was standing outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, debating whether or not to go inside. She really didn't want to talk to Ron. And after all, she didn't need to sleep in her dormitory; the Room of Requirement came equipped with a bed. But she couldn't keep avoiding Ron. He really cared about her, and she cared about him. Even though things had changed, she would always want Ron to confide in her.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked impatiently, forcing Hermione to make a decision. It would be so easy to turn back…

She gave in. "Chimera." The portrait swung open and she climbed inside.

Hermione peeked around the corner and saw Ron in an armchair by the fireplace. There was no way she would make it to the girls staircase unnoticed, but she could try. She was halfway across the room when Ron turned around. "Hi Hermione," he said.

She stopped, defeated. "Hey Ron."

"So…"

She bit her lip and looked around the room, trying to avoid Ron's gaze. He cleared his throat. "So, um…you were going to tell me something?"

Hermione walked over to her favorite armchair and sat down. "Alright, I promised I'd tell you everything." She hesitated. "It's difficult for me to say this, so just hear me out first, okay?"

He nodded his head. "Sure thing."

"Well, it all started a week ago, on the last day I helped in the Great Hall. I talked to you by the lake, remember?"

He nodded again.

"I was really upset, Ron, and wanted to talk with you about it. And I know it wasn't your fault, but you just weren't helping. So I left feeling worse than ever. I didn't know what to do with myself…I was wandering around the castle, just thinking about everything, when I ended up in front of the Room of Requirement. The door was there, so I opened it. It just felt…right." She paused to catch her breath.

Ron was staring at her, looking intrigued. "Go on…" he urged.

"Well I went inside," she continued, "and it was my dormitory."

"Wait a second," Ron interrupted, looking bewildered. "You've been sneaking off to a replica of your _dormitory_? That's it? What's so secretive about that?"

She scowled. "Just let me finish. Yes, at first glance this room and my dormitory are the exact same thing. But there's this window…and the view from it is incredible. When I look outside, I see Hogwarts…but it's not our Hogwarts. I think it's a different time; I don't know, but everyone looks different. There are dozens of students, Ron, and they're…they're happy. And there's this boy…" suddenly a dreamy look stole over her face. "I think he can help me, Ron, I really do. We seem so similar. He's not like everyone else. I know if I could just talk to him, he'd understand me, and everything would be alright."

Ron looked taken aback; he obviously wasn't expecting this. She waited for him to say something, but he didn't; he just stared.

"Ron, I know what you're thinking, but it isn't like that. There's nothing wrong with these people."

"What do you mean, 'there's nothing wrong with these people'? You have no idea who they are or what they could do to you. I dunno, something seems wrong about this."

She rolled her eyes. "How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Well it's the truth-"

"And there's nothing wrong with what I'm doing," she interrupted.

"Of course there is," Ron retorted. "It's not right to spend hours staring out a window. I don't want you going back there."

"Ha. I'd like to see you stop me."

"Seriously Hermione, I don't want you going back there. Can't you see it's keeping you away from me?"

"_Keeping me away from you?!_" Hermione shrieked. "I've already tried talking to you, and you haven't helped a bit! Do you realize how upset I've been? All of a sudden my world's come crashing down around me: everyone's dead and gone. I tried to tell you how lost I'm feeling, but you wouldn't listen. I need help, Ron. Does it matter who I get it from?" Hermione was fuming, angry tears streaming down her face. This is exactly why she hadn't wanted to talk to him.

Ron was getting red in the face. "Sorry I can't read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted to talk about that? Don't forget, I'm upset too! You're not the only one who's lost their family…and Harry."

Hermione stood up. "Don't you dare bring Harry into this," she shouted at him. "Just forget it; I don't want to talk to you anymore." She turned and stormed toward the portrait hole.

"Hermione, please," Ron called. "I'm sorry." He stared at her retreating figure. "I don't want to lose you too." She didn't look back.

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Hermione was livid. Who did Ron think he was? The nerve of him! He wasn't in control of her life – she could do whatever she wanted. And as for the Room of Requirement, he couldn't keep her away. In fact, that's where she would go now, just to spite him. She stormed down the corridor until she reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. There she paced back and forth three times and threw open the newly appeared door.

Still fuming, she slammed the door behind her and stomped over to the window. Her anger subsided as soon as she sat down and began to watch the figures below her. _Why can't my world be this perfect_? Hermione thought to herself. She scanned the grounds and immediately found the person she was looking for. He was still under the tree reading. If only he knew how much she wanted to talk to him. Hermione leaned back for a moment and closed her eyes, imagining a conversation between them. When she looked out again, he was standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants. As he turned to leave, he looked up towards her window.

Hermione gasped. She realized with a sickening jolt where she had seen that face before; it was the face of a young Tom Riddle. She blanched. How had she been so blind? She had been staring into the face of evil and…_sympathizing_? Suddenly, the anger she had felt towards Ron flared up again; it was _his_ fault she felt this way. She wanted to destroy him, destroy the reason all this had happened. He was so close…if only she could get through the window somehow. She tried the latch, but it was stuck. Angry tears were welling up again and she began to pound on the glass in desperation. Frantically she searched the room looking for something heavy enough to break the window. There was nothing around.

"Why is there nothing heavy in this room?" she screamed.

Finally, she spotted her bag across the room. "This will have to do," Hermione snapped. "After all, it nearly breaks my back each day." She ran over, picked it up, and with as much force as she could muster, slammed it against the window.

The glass shattered. Almost instantaneously, a wind swept through the room, pushing her forward. Hermione gasped and looked wildly around. _Where is this wind coming from? _She stared in shock as loose pieces of paper and other small objects were sucked through the window. Even the curtains had been ripped from their hangings. She grabbed the bedpost to prevent herself from being pulled through, but the wind was too strong. She lost her grip only moments later and stumbled backwards towards the window. Hermione couldn't keep her balance any longer, nor could she hear herself scream over the howling of the wind as she was pulled through. The last thing she felt was glass tearing against her skin, before everything went black.


	4. Things Remembered

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything.

**A/N: **Sorry for the transition chapter and the ridiculously long wait. Chapter five should be up in a more timely manner, and it'll definitely have some Tom/Hermione action. Again, thanks to all of our reviewers, namely, snarkybookworm, emailia, amrawo, and mizzlanfear for the comments on chapter three. We're glad you like it so far.

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Things Remembered

_Hermione couldn't keep her balance any longer, nor could she hear herself scream over the howling of the wind as she was pulled through. The last thing she felt was glass tearing against her skin, before everything went black._

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_She sat on the ground for a moment, still shocked about Neville's death, while the battle raged on. Suddenly disoriented, she picked herself up and looked wildly around for Harry. He was not too far away, engaged in a fierce fight with Voldemort, and although he was an experienced dueler, he was clearly having a difficult time. If Hermione could only reach them, perhaps she could catch Voldemort off guard and hit him with a spell from behind… then maybe Harry could gain the upper hand. _

_She ran forward, pulled her wand out and pointed it straight at Voldemort's back. At the same time, he turned around and disarmed them both. While Harry went to retrieve his wand, Voldemort advanced on Hermione, grinning maliciously. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, frozen by fear. She could see the hatred etched all over his face as he drew his wand for the last time. Hermione braced herself, awaiting death, when all of a sudden the two made eye contact. She could see his blazing eyes burning in hatred, and then going cold. They widened in shock… or was it fear? He hesitated for a moment, and then turned his attention back on his wand. Now Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she saw the beam of green light bypass her and hit Ginny. Hermione gasped in horror as she watched her friend fall. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She woke up confused…what had happened? There had been glass, and wind… lots of wind. She saw Ron's angry face. He had been yelling at her for something, but what was it? And had that happened before the accident, or after? Yes, that was it… there had been an accident. The details were hazy, though. She couldn't remember getting injured, just being very angry. Nothing made sense. She felt so disoriented… she could hear faint voices above her somewhere, but they kept fading in and out. After a long while, it seemed, she could begin to see a dim light, but it hurt her eyes. She squeezed them tighter together, refusing to fully wake up. The light became stronger, though, and she could no longer ignore it, nor could she ignore the dull pounding in the back of her head. In fact, now that she thought about it, her head was throbbing in pain. She groaned.

"Oh good, you're up." There were footsteps and the sound of a liquid being poured into a cup. Hermione cracked an eye open just in time to see a large, steaming goblet being pushed to her lips. The potion smelled terrible, and she felt a wave of nausea.

"Come on, now, drink up. It's not that bad."

The goblet was forced between Hermione's lips, and she felt hot liquid run down her throat. She gagged; the potion was foul tasting.

As the woman walked away, Hermione tried to sit up in bed and take in her surroundings. From what she could tell, she was in the infirmary, but there were no other students. She didn't see Madam Pomfrey; instead, the woman who had given her the potion was sweeping the far corner of the room. Hermione had never seen her before.

She cleared her throat. "Um, ex-excuse me," she started. The witch stopped sweeping and turned around. "C-can you tell me where Ma-madam Pomfrey is? I don't remember her leaving…"

The witch gave her a funny look. "Madam Pomfrey? There's no Madam Pomfrey here. Poor dear, you're still out of it, aren't you?" She walked back over to Hermione's bed and gently pushed her back into her pillows. "Don't worry about anything now; just get some more rest and we'll work everything out later."

Hermione's mind was swimming. No Madam Pomfrey? What had happened? Oh no, there couldn't have been another attack, could there? She sat up again. "What do you mean? What happened to Madam Pomfrey? Was there another attack?" She looked wildly around. "Why is the infirmary empty?"

"The school is empty," the witch said, "because all of the students are away on summer holiday." She paused, studying Hermione's face. "And I'm not sure what attack you're talking about. Professor Dippet has taken all of the necessary precautions to ensure the school's safety.

"_Dippet?_" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Yes, Professor Dippet, the school's Headmaster. Actually, he'll be stopping by later to talk with you. Now, for the last time, lie down and get some rest."

Grudgingly, Hermione lay back down. Though she was physically exhausted, her mind was racing, and she tried to process what she had just heard. Professor Dippet was Headmaster years ago… what was this woman talking about? And who was she, anyway? She had seen Madam Pomfrey just yesterday. What about McGonagall? This woman was certainly off her rocker. What was she going to say next… that Dumbledore was alive? Hermione scoffed at the idea. Something certainly wasn't right here… Still pondering these thoughts, she slowly fell back to sleep.

What seemed like moments later, Hermione heard voices outside the hospital wing. She slowly opened her eyes, and saw that it was dark now; also, the room was still empty, save for the infirmary witch striding towards the door. As she opened it, Hermione could see the silhouettes of two gentlemen standing in the threshold. She wasn't able to make out their faces, as they were illuminated by the light behind them. When they walked in, though, she gasped: it couldn't be!

"Ah," the witch said, "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Dippet, good evening." She stepped aside, letting the two men enter the room.

Hermione let out a stifled cry. Her body grew numb. "D-D-Dumbledore? Wha-" She stared blankly at his approaching figure. But, but Dumbledore was dead! How could this be? And yet there he was, standing at her bedside, peering intently over his half-moon spectacles.

"Hello, Miss. I'm glad to see you awake and well," he said kindly.

Hermione still stared in shock, mouth agape. "How… what… what's happening?"

"Well," he replied, "you received a rather nasty bump on the head almost a week ago. You seem to have fallen from a great height. But we're not sure how you came to be at Hogwarts in the first place." He paused, looking slightly mystified. "Actually, we were hoping that you would tell us about that."

"Wait… what do you mean, 'fell?'"

"We found you at the base of a tower. You appeared to have fallen from a seventh story window."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I-I don't remember falling…" she said, her voice trailing off.

Suddenly, the other wizard stepped into view. He was old, and very frail looking. "Why if Riddle hadn't found you," he started.

But Hermione didn't hear the rest. _Riddle?_ Not… not _Tom _Riddle? Suddenly, she remembered… Tom Riddle… the window… the Room of Requirement… it all made sense. Overwhelmed, she burst into tears.

"Oh look what you've done," the nurse said, shooting the two wizards a nasty look, "you've upset her. You should go; she's obviously not ready to talk yet."

"Absolutely; come on, Albus, let's go," Dippet said, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Hermione cried through her tears, "I… need… to talk… to… Dumbledore!" She put her hands to her face and shook uncontrollably.

Dumbledore looked at her kindly. "Would you like me to come back tomorrow?" he asked.

She looked up and nodded.

"Well that's settled then; we'll talk tomorrow. Try and get some rest."

She continued to sob as the two left. The nurse walked over with another steaming goblet and said, "Calm down, dear. It will be alright." She handed Hermione the cup. "Now drink this, and get some sleep. Dumbledore's a great man, you know… he'll help you straighten everything out."

Hermione drank the potion without hesitation, and instantly fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day Hermione woke up less disoriented than the night before. She still felt horrible, but at least she knew where she was. Of course, she wasn't completely sure, though what she thought made sense.

She distinctly remembered falling out the window, right after seeing Tom Riddle. Watching him had made her so angry; she had wanted to hurt him, but instead only ended up hurting herself.

_Wow, real smart, Hermione_, she thought to herself. _Look where you've landed yourself. The Room of Requirement, that window…how could you have missed it? The window didn't show a made up fantasy world, it showed the past. Tom Riddle, Dippet as Headmaster, and Dumbledore still alive…it all fits. And now you're stuck here. _

Hermione sat for a long time, thinking this over. She hoped that Dumbledore really would be able to help her. If he didn't believe her story, though, she wouldn't know what to do. But then again, Dumbledore was a very trusting man. He'd have to be able to set things straight.

After a while, the door to the hospital wing opened, and in walked Dumbledore. Seeing him fully now, she felt apprehensive. It had been almost a year since she last saw him. In her time, he was dead, so it was difficult to see him here, alive and well.

"Ah, hello again," he said smiling. "I trust you're feeling better?"

Hermione smiled sheepishly, "Yes, thank you," she replied. "I'm sorry about my behavior last night…I was just so…overwhelmed."

"Don't be silly, that's perfectly normal for someone in your position." He sat in a chair by her bed, and stared intently out the window as if waiting for her to say something.

"So I guess you'd like to know who I am," Hermione said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yes, that would be helpful," he said, still staring out the window.

"Well…my name's Hermione," she paused, "and this may sound like an odd question, but what year is it?"

Dumbledore turned to look at her. "Why yes, that is a rather odd question. The date is June 15th, 1944. But shouldn't you know that?"

Hermione sighed. So she had been right; she had fallen into the past. "Actually, I didn't know that."

She looked at him expectantly. When he made no reply, she continued.

"Well, the truth is…I'm not from around here."

Dumbledore nodded. "Apparently."

"No, what I mean is, I _am _from Hogwarts, just…" she paused, taking a deep breath, "just, Hogwarts fifty years in the future."

He looked at her quizzically. "Do you mean to tell me you've _time traveled_?"

"I know it sounds very far-fetched."

"Indeed it does. In fact, why should I even believe you?"

Hermione blushed. "Because… because it's the truth."

"Perhaps if you told me how you came to this time, I could give more credit to your story," he said, folding his hands in his lap.

"Well…" she paused, thinking carefully of what she should say. She knew time travel was a risky business, and didn't want to reveal too much about the future. "One day, I came across this room in Hogwarts. Inside, there was a window that showed the past, although I didn't know it at the time. I hadn't realized I was watching real people when I looked out this window… I thought it was only my imagination.

"Then one time when I was in the room, I was really angry and kind of… smashed open the window. I was sucked through and blacked out. When I woke up, I was here, in the hospital wing."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That would explain how you fell, but how can I be sure you're not making this up?"

"Honestly Professor, what reason do I have to lie? And why else would I be wearing these robes? Wait…" Hermione sat up, excitedly. "Did you find my bag?"

"Oh, did no one tell you? Its right over there," he said, pointing to a table across the room. "Would you like me to get it for you?"

Hermione nodded.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and the bag floated over, landing in front of Hermione. She opened it up and pulled out _Hogwarts, A History_. "See, look at the publication date; it's nearly forty years from now! And look here, this part talks about the 1970's! Why would I have this if I'm from 1944?"

He took the book from her hands and scanned its pages.

"Please don't look at it too much," she said. "I don't think it's safe for you to read about the future."

"A smart idea," he said, closing the book. "Well, there's no arguing with this. I guess you really are from the future." He passed the book back to Hermione, who stowed it back in her bag. "Now the question is, how do we get you home?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I don't even know how the window worked in the first place."

Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully. "I guess you'll have to stay here, then, until we sort things out. I'll arrange a meeting with Professor Dippet. And by the way, I believe you neglected to tell me your surname."

Hermione hesitated. She couldn't tell him her real name; she didn't want to influence the future. She racked her brain, desperately trying to think of another Muggle surname. "Parks, it's Hermione Parks."

He nodded. "It has been pleasure speaking with you, Miss Parks." He stood up. "I will send word when I have arranged a meeting with Professor Dippet."

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your help."

Dumbledore smiled and walked out of the room, leaving a much relieved Hermione alone with her thoughts.


	5. A New Beginning

**Authors' Note:** Ok, it's been a really long time since our last update, but we've been home for winter break, and haven't had the time to write. Now we're back at school, so the chapters should be coming quicker. Also, so far we have just been taking care of a little house-keeping… the story really starts to pick up in the next chapter, so it will be easier to write.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed us so far. We love to hear from you guys, so keep at it!

**Disclaimer: **We wish we owned everything.

* * *

A New Beginning

A few days later, Hermione awoke to find a note on the table by her bed. _This must be from Dumbledore, _she thought. She unrolled it, and quickly scanned the thin, slanted writing.

_Miss Parks,_

_I have spoken with Professor Dippet, and arranged a meeting for eight o'clock this evening. Please be ready at this time; I will escort you to his office._

_Most sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore _

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she would be able to leave this infernal hospital wing. Aside from being bored to death, Hermione desperately wanted to know what was going to happen to her. She also wondered if Dumbledore had told Dippet the truth, or made up a story.

All day, Hermione fidgeted in her bed, and constantly asked for the time. The nurse, whose name was Madame Wilton, shot her dirty looks whenever she asked, and said, "It's not time yet."

After what seemed like an eternity, Madame Wilton walked over and told Hermione that Dumbledore would be arriving soon, and that she should get ready. She jumped out of bed, and pulled on the robes that had been laid out for her. Dumbledore walked in just as she finished putting her books away.

"Good evening, Miss Parks," he said cheerfully, "are you ready to go? I'm sure you're glad of the excuse to leave."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, sir." She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I've been looking forward to it all day."

They left the hospital wing and walked down the corridor in an awkward silence. Hermione wanted to say something, but couldn't bring herself to talk. "_How do I talk with him? As far as I'm concerned, he died a year ago." _she thought to herself. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind the silence, though, as he walked quickly down the hall, barely noticing Hermione at his side. Eventually, he stopped in front of the stone gargoyle that Hermione knew to be the entrance of the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore spoke the password, and the gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a stone staircase. The two walked inside.

As they entered the office, Hermione saw that the circular room was dominated by a large wooden desk at which Dippet sat. There was no clutter anywhere in the room; no trinkets or personal items – nothing to suggest that anyone actually lived there. Even Dippet's desk, Hermione noticed, was unusually bare, save for a single book and quill.

Despite the unpleasant nakedness of the room, though, the familiar portraits of past headmasters still adorned the walls. As Hermione walked further into the office, she noticed that they were all sleeping, or rather, pretending to sleep. She smirked; every so often one would give a rather theatrical snore and crack an eye open to watch the visitors.

Dippet acknowledge them without raising his head. "Dumbledore, Miss Parks, please sit down." He motioned to a pair of chairs in front of his desk and continued reading. Hermione sat next to Dumbledore, and looked at Dippet expectantly. Again, she wondered what he had been told about her sudden arrival.

They sat in silence for a few awkward moments, waiting for Dippet to finish. She was surprised to see Dumbledore staring peacefully off into space, not concerned in the least that Dippet was so blatantly ignoring their presence. Hermione, on the other hand, thought it was rather rude. But then again, Dippet didn't strike her as one to be polite, especially towards strangers.

Finally, he gave a sigh and tore his gaze from his book. "Well, Miss Parks," he said, "Dumbledore told me all about you. What an interesting story, indeed.…"

Hermione's eyes widened. _Oh no, Dumbledore actually told him the truth?_

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents," he continued, "but they were very wise to send you to Hogwarts in a time of crisis. I can assure you this is the safest place to be right now."

Now she was confused. She didn't remember telling Dumbledore anything about the present… how could he have know about her parents?

Just then, Dumbledore turned to Hermione and said gravely, "What happened is a tragedy. Your mother was a good friend of mine, you know…. she was a great witch. We haven't spoken in years, but I know she would want you to be protected at all costs. It shouldn't have surprised me that you would arrive by portkey if anything ever happened. Naturally, your parents would want you to come here."

"It was an ingenious plan, really. If that bag of yours wasn't a portkey, why, I'm sure you would have also been killed in the attack," Dippet added. "Most people don't survive Grindelwald attacks."

Suddenly, Hermione understood. It's the height of the war, of course, so Dumbledore could easily say she was from a town that was destroyed. Her parents could have taken precautions in case of an emergency. Hence the portkey that explained her sudden arrival at school. She couldn't help but marvel at Dumbledore's ingenuity, though she was sure he didn't realize how close to the truth he had come.

What a coincidence, she thought dryly. Although Hermione hadn't been there, her parents had actually been killed in a mass Muggle attack. Her eyes began to water at the thought. She remembered being pulled aside by McGonagall, and being told that the Death Eaters had blown up a Muggle roadway in her town. Her parents had gone missing, like so many others, and so Hermione assumed the worst.

Dippet continued, breaking her train of thought. "So now that you'll be staying at Hogwarts, we'll prepare you for the upcoming school year. How long have you studied so far?"

"Only six years," Hermione replied, "I was just about to start my seventh." This was true; even though she had finished her sixth year at Hogwarts over a year ago, she hadn't actually attended school since then. She and Ron had left with Harry to search for Horcruxes… of course, they had returned every now and then to be close to the Order, but she never finished her Newt level classes.

"So you have started Newt level courses, then?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione nodded fervently. "Oh yes. I've begun with Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms… Arithmancy, and…"

"It's okay, we will work out a schedule later for you," Dippet interrupted. He turned to Dumbledore. "Right now we'll just do a quick sorting, so she has someplace to stay for the night. Can you bring over the sorting hat?"

With a quick nod, Dumbledore gave his wand a flick, and the old wizard hat came floating over. He grabbed it and said to Hermione, "this will only take a few moments." Before she knew it, the familiar hat was dropped down onto her head for the second time in her life.

"Hmm," the hat whispered in her ear, "Very tricky… very tricky indeed. You've been sorted into a house already, haven't you? Yes, I can see bravery, courage, determination: all traits that belong to your house. Well as they say, once a Gryffindor, always a GRYFFINDOR!" It yelled out the last word to Dippet and Dumbledore.

Hermione sighed in relief; she couldn't imagine having to live anywhere else. Even though she was in a different time, she could at least enjoy some familiarity.

Dumbledore smiled. "A fine choice; I'm the head of Gryffindor," he said.

This didn't seem to interest Dippet in the least. "Alright, now you know where you will be living for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. I hope you'll consider the people in your house to be your family. The school will be empty until term starts in September. There's only one other student here right now, due to special circumstances. He'll show you around the castle. Let's just wait for –" There was a knock on the door, and Dippet paused. "Oh there's Tom!" he said brightly, "Come in, we've been waiting for you."

The office door opened,and Tom Riddled entered, looking bored. He was very tall, had jet-black hair, and seemed perfectly… composed. His robes were neatly pressed and not a hair on his head was out of place. Hermione had never seen anyone like him; it was quite weird.

He stood next to Dippet's desk and nodded to them. "Good evening, Professor Dippet, Professor Dumbledore."

"How nice of you to come, Tom," Dippet said. "We were just finishing up here. I'd like to ask a favor of you. You remember Miss Parks," he said, acknowledging Hermione, "I told you before about why she is here, and we've decided that it would be best for her to stay. She's just been sorted into Gryffindor, and will start her seventh year in the fall. Would you mind showing her to the Gryffindor common room, and perhaps around the castle? You know, the Great Hall, the library… just so she's not wandering around aimlessly during the summer."

Tom smiled charmingly. "Why certainly, Professor," he said.

"Excellent," Dippet said.

Dumbledore stood up, and started to leave. He looked at Hermione, eyes twinkling, and said, "I hope to see you in the future."

"Me too, sir," she replied. After Dumbledore left the room, she turned to Dippet and said, "Thank you for accommodating me here under such short notice."

Dippet waved his hand. "It's no trouble at all. Tom will now escort you to the Gryffindor tower."

Hermione stood up and looked at Tom expectantly. He had crossed the room and was holding the door open. "Right this way, Miss Parks," he said.

Xxxxxxxxxx

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Hermione couldn't believe that she was actually standing next to _Tom Riddle_, the person who had caused so much pain. She gripped her wand tightly. _I could end it here and now if I wanted to_, she thought. But she couldn't bring herself to do it; _she_ wasn't a murderer.

"That's some story you've fed Dippet," he said, shocking her slightly. She hadn't expected him to initiate a conversation, and was a bit unnerved.

"What do you mean?" she asked meekly. "He was told the truth."

He said nothing for a moment, and then turned to look at her. His face, emotionless, studied hers. "Miss Parks," he said in almost a whisper, "I will tell you right now, that while Dippet may be a bumbling idiot, on no account am I. I don't believe your _dreadful _excuse for appearing here." He narrowed his eyes. "I saw you fall from the seventh story. Do you honestly think I'd believe you fell over seventy feet from a _portkey_, and lived to tell the tale?"

Hermione was speechless. Why had _Tom Riddle_ seen her fall? Anyone else would have believed Dumbledore's story. How was she going to get around this? He had cornered her.

She began to walk a little quicker, and said nervously, "Did I fall seventy feet? I don't remember much… I think I blacked out." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "But I'd like to thank you. If I really did fall that far, I wouldn't have lasted very long." She gave him a small smile and continued walking at a brisk pace. He didn't say anything, nor did he stop her.

By now, they were almost at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady and turned around to wait for Tom to give her the password. She had expected him to be right behind her, but he wasn't. He was a good ten feet down the corridor.

Tom caught up with Hermione a moment later and gave her an odd look. "How do you know where the Gryffindor common room is?" he asked sharply.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn. "Oh, err, um… it was just a lucky guess. I figured this was the only portrait on this floor ornate enough to be the entrance." She immediately regretted saying this, as the corridor was decorated with dozens of paintings and doorways that were far more elaborate than the portrait of the Fat Lady. Tom seemed to think so, too, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there, seemingly contemplating something. Finally, he said, "Your excuses are meaningless to me. I intend to find out how you survived that fall, where you came from, and more importantly, _why you are here_." He paused. "As Professor Dippet said, I'm required to show you around the castle. Be ready tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. I do not tolerate tardiness." He turned to leave.

"How do I get in?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"The common room is accessed by a password," he said without turning around, "Currently, it is 'Mermaid Song.'" Without another word, he slipped down the staircase and out of sight.

Hermione sighed. _Tomorrow is going to be interesting, _she thought to herself.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked rather impatiently. "I don't have all night, you know."

"Mermaid Song," Hermione said.

"That's the one," the Fat Lady replied, and swung her portrait open. Hermione walked through the portrait hole and entered the familiar common room.

She was glad to be home, but was too tired to sit and relax by the fire; instead, she walked up the girl's staircase, and found the seventh years' dormitory.

Not surprisingly, the room was almost exactly what she was used to. There were four four-poster beds, each with a respective set of drawers. Hermione placed her bag on a bed and walked over to the window. Down below, she could see the familiar grounds; there was the lake, the grassy knolls, and even the Quidditch Pitch in the distance.

Hermione thought about the last time she had seen that view, in the Room of Requirement. She still didn't understand how it was able to send her into the past. Had anyone else used it as a means of time travel before? If the Room of Requirement was capable of this, what else could it do? Could it send her back? But more importantly, did she want to go back?

The more she thought about it though, the more she realized she didn't _want_ to go back home. What was left for her there? Hermione had no one to go to, and nothing to live for. Why should she go back? Maybe, if she stayed here, she could start a new life and forget her past.

Hermione moved away from the window and started checking the dressers for extra clothing. She found a drawer filled with robes and pajamas, took out a pair, and smiled; Dumbledore always thought of everything… he never missed a beat.

Dumbledore always seemed to know more than he let on. Was it possible that he had always known she would travel to the past? Could he have warned her about this before he died? Had she already made changes to the past – and her present – without realizing it? After all, that's exactly what had happened in her third year, when she and Harry saved Sirius and Buckbeak. Hermione knew that she couldn't change time, but maybe she couldn't because she already _had_.

All of this made her head swim. And on top of everything else, she still had to deal with Tom. Hermione let out a sigh: she needed to lie down. She was going to have a difficult time maintaining her alibi around him; he was bound to discover the truth eventually. All Hermione needed to do was get through tomorrow, and then she could avoid him for the rest of the summer. The less she saw of him, the better.


	6. Trouble Brewing

**Author's note:** Yeah, we know it's been a while, but we've had to worry about classes and studying for exams. On the plus side, this is an extra long chapter! So please review! Thanks.

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing.

* * *

Trouble Brewing

"…and this is the library," Tom said, in a flat tone. He sounded just as unenthusiastic as he had when he had shown Hermione the dungeons, the Owlery, the astronomy tower, and various other classrooms. Ushering her into the room, he continued, "After you're done looking around here, I'll show you to the Great Hall, where you can eat breakfast."

Hermione nodded. _Thank goodness_, she thought to herself. She couldn't wait to end this blasted tour and get away from Tom; it was extremely awkward to be around him. "This is really a beautiful library," she said in reply, "I can only imagine what the Great Hall looks like.

Tom didn't answer. He simply stood by the door, waiting for her to finish. It was apparent that he was "enjoying" their tour together just as much as Hermione was. This surprised her; she would have expected more from the Head Boy. Instead he was acting arrogant and pretentious; he obviously felt he was wasting his precious time.

As Hermione wandered the bookshelves, she could feel his gaze on the back of her head. She ignored him, and kept walking further away.

Tom cleared his throat. "You're heading towards the restricted section, you know," he said, "that area of the library is forbidden to students."

"Not if you have a signed note from a teacher," Hermione replied automatically. She stopped dead in her tracks, realizing what she had said.

"And how would you know that?" he asked coolly.

Hermione turned to face him. "Just because I haven't attended Hogwarts," she said slowly, "doesn't mean I haven't read _Hogwarts, A History_."

He raised an eyebrow. "_Why_ would you _want_ to read that book?"

"I like being well read," she replied matter-of-factly.

"You also like being unbearable," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione stared. "Excuse me?" she asked indignantly. "Who are _you _to call _me_ unbearable?"

Tom chuckled condescendingly.

She walked towards him and looked him straight in the eyes. "I haven't acted in any way that's inappropriate. You, on the other hand, have." Her voice cracked as she spoke; she was getting angry. "I'm a guest here, and you've been rude and arrogant. You're Head Boy; you should at least _act_ accommodating!"

He frowned. "Why should I accommodate a _liar?_ You may have everyone else wrapped around your little finger, but I can see right through you, and it disgusts me."

"Why do you care so much about my "false" pretenses?"

"Because," he said angrily, "I know what kind of person you are. You're a meddlesome know-it-all, and one day you'll find yourself in trouble because of it."

"You think you have me all figured out," she hissed, "but you know nothing about me."

He stood glaring at her for a moment, and then stormed out the door. Hermione closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. "That went well," she mumbled, and then followed Tom to the Great Hall in silence.

xxxxxx

Though both were still angry, Tom and Hermione put on false smiles when they entered the Great Hall and greeted the professors with enthusiasm. There were only a few people in the room, and all were sitting around the staff table. Hermione could see Dumbledore at the head of the table munching thoughtfully on some toast. There was another older man sitting beside him, whom Hermione had never seen before, and an enormously tall boy whom, she realized with a smile, was Hagrid. He was sitting next to a grizzled old man that looked vaguely like Mad-Eye Moody.

Hermione walked up to the table and sat across from Hagrid. Tom, she noticed, removed himself as far as possible from everyone else, and started eating in silence. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Good morning, Miss Parks," Dumbledore said warmly as she started scooping eggs onto her plate. "How did you find Hogwarts?"

"It's lovely," Hermione replied. _But your Head Boy, on the other hand, is far from it, _she thought to herself.

Dumbledore sat chewing for a moment. "Pardon my rudeness," he said, "I should have introduced you to the members of the Hogwarts staff who have elected to stay the summer. This is Augustus Pringle, our caretaker." He motioned to the man sitting at his side. Pringle, still leaning over his plate, gave a wave in her direction.

Dumbledore pointed towards the man who reminded Hermione of Moody. "This is our groundskeeper, Ogg," he said. Ogg glanced at Hermione and grunted in acknowledgment. Finally, Dumbledore nodded in Hagrid's direction. "And this is Hagrid, our apprentice groundskeeper." Hagrid smiled sheepishly.

"Hi, everyone," she said with a smile.

Hagrid looked up from his breakfast. "Good morning," he said hesitantly, "yeh're findin' your way 'round Hogwarts alright?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Well, I haven't gotten lost yet."

"Well, don' hesitate to ask me fer help if yeh need any. I know my way 'round this place pretty well."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

They ate in silence for a while. Eventually, Hagrid spoke again. "If yeh don' mind me askin'," he said, " where exactly are yeh from? I've heard different stories, but they're jus rumors, o' course."

"Oh, I'm from…" she grimaced. "I was home schooled until my parents died a few weeks ago."

Hagrid's expression softened. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear tha'. If it helps any, both me parents are dead, too. Well, I don' know about me mum… she left when I was jus a baby. But me dad – he's the one who raised me – he died two years ago."

Hermione sighed. "That's so sad," she said awkwardly." There was an uneasy silence. "But anyway, what do you do at Hogwarts?"

"Well I was a student 'til last year, when I was expelled. So now I'm Ogg's apprentice. I jus do small odd jobs around the castle, but one day I'll be groundskeeper."

She glanced over at Tom, and saw that he was paying no attention to anyone. "It's nice that you can still stay at Hogwarts." she said.

"Yeh, I thank Professor Dumbledore for tha'. Dippet wanted ter get rid o' me, but Dumbledore let me stay. And me job's not too bad."

"What kind of jobs do you do around the castle?"

He shrugged. "All sorts o' jobs. I look after the vegetable patches, take care of the animals, collect all sorts o' things, yeh know, stuff like tha'. Actually, I have a small job ter do this afternoon. Would yeh like to come with me?"

"Sure," Hermione replied. She'd like to spend some time with Hagrid; he obviously had no one else to talk to. "What time?"

"Is one o'clock alright?"

"That's fine."

Hagrid gave a huge smile. "Okay. Thanks a lot. Sometimes I get a bit lonely. No one really wants ter be 'round the apprentice groundskeeper."

"Well I have no idea why," she said sincerely.

Hermione looked around again and saw that Tom had already left the table. She scowled. He was too good to actually sit and socialize with the staff at breakfast. He _obviously_ had more important things to attend to.

Just then, Dumbledore cleared his throat and started to get up from the table. "You must excuse me," he said, "I have a lot of work to do today. If you need me, Miss Parks, I'll be in my office on the first floor." He nodded to the rest of the table. "Good day to you all."

Shortly after, Hermione got up too. "I should also be going. I need to get settled in a bit." She turned to Hagrid. "I'll see you at one?"

He nodded. "See yeh then."

xxxxxx

That afternoon, Hermione made her way down to the entrance hall. Hagrid was already waiting there, holding a burlap sack. He looked up as she approached and smiled. "Hello there, Hermione," he said, "are yeh ready ter go?"

She returned the smile and said, "Yep. But what exactly are we going to be doing?"

"We're goin' ter be collecting unicorn hair today," Hagrid said as they walked out onto the grounds. "We'll have ter go into the forest; that's where they live, o' course."

Hermione's face must have looked apprehensive because Hagrid rushed on, "Oh, don' worry 'bout the forest; we'll be fine. We can' go too far in, so we won' be in any danger. I can usually find enough unicorn hair along the paths, so we'll stick to 'em." He reached his hand into his bag and pulled out a long, brilliant strand of hair. "See? This is wha' they look like. They'll be real easy ter spot from where we are."

Hermione nodded, feeling a little better. She hadn't been in the forest often during her years at Hogwarts, but the times she had been were enough to make her feel uneasy about entering it again. At least she would stay on the path this time, near the forest's edge. Nothing wrong could possibly happen.

Hagrid replaced the unicorn hair and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yea', there's no need ter worry," he continued, "yeh know Professor Dippet won' let jus anyone in the forest. He trusts me, even if it is jus with little jobs. Pretty soon, though, he'll give me more important ones."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," she said. It was funny how talkative Hagrid was as a teenager. She would have thought he would have been more subdued, especially around strangers. But then again, the Hagrid she knew had always been very good-natured. And he must be so happy to have someone to talk to right now; he had probably always been considered to be an outcast during school because of his size, but she was sure he had absolutely no friends now that he was expelled.

They finally arrived at the forest, and entered onto a shady path. "There should be some just around here," he whispered. Hermione peered at the ground. She didn't see anything but dirt and a few shrubs.

"Hmm…." Hagrid started walking deeper into the forest. "Sometimes they're shy, unicorns," he said, "they don' like ter come out too often, yeh know. Won' even let Ogg anywhere near 'em, and he's been 'round the forest fer ages…." He continued talking to Hermione, but she stopped listening. It was getting darker, she noticed, and she was getting nervous. The forest was getting quieter, too; there were no birds chirping or small animals rustling through the grass. A moment later she realized that Hagrid had gone quite also.

"Hagrid," she whispered, "are you sure we're not going too far in?"

He shook his head and knelt down on the ground. Hermione squinted in the darkness and saw that he had picked up a gleaming white strand of hair. "See?" he said, "we need ter go a little bit farther." He pointed to the path ahead of them. "There's a fork in the path right here. We should split up and cover twice the ground. They're not long paths, so we'll meet up again in a few minutes. Don' worry; you'll be fine as long as you stick ter the path."

Hermione sighed. She certainly didn't want to go walking in the forest by herself, but what could she say?

"Alright," she relented, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

As soon as she left Hagrid, it seemed to get even darker than before. She tried to focus on the path, looking for a glint of white, but her mind kept wandering. She was getting deep into the forest now, deeper than she had ever been before. What was in here? Or better yet, what would _find_ her in here? Angry Centaurs? Thestrals? A hungry Acromantula? She gulped.

_Where are these unicorn hairs? _Hermione thought to herself, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. She'd rather not think about the countless ways she could die in here unnoticed.

All of a sudden, there was a snapping noise right behind her. Hermione jumped and looked wildly around for the source of the noise. She squinted into the darkness but couldn't see anything. _Stop being so jumpy,_ she told herself.

A moment later she spotted a flash of white on the ground. "Finally," she whispered. Hermione bent down to grab the hair, when suddenly, a brown blur flew out of the bushes, taking her by complete surprise. Hermione screamed, lost her balance, and fell forward into a patch of bushes.

Unfortunately for her, the bushes lined a steep hill, and she began careening down the slope. As she tumbled, branches cut her skin and caught in her hair. She kept screaming, and desperately tried to grab hold of something, but everything slipped out of her grasp.

Eventually, Hermione came to a rest at the bottom of the hill. She laid there for a moment, gasping for breath. When her heart rate returned to normal, she slowly stood up. She brushed herself off, and looked up in the direction from which she fell. It was a very steep hill; there was no way she could possibly climb back up. She would have to find some other way to get up to the path. _Just great, _Hermione thought to herself, _now I'm _really _lost deep in the forest. Who knows what's in here... _

She started to wander around the base of the hill, trying to find a less steep area that she could climb back up. After a few minutes she sighed; she was getting nowhere. The hill was steep all around. Hermione had no idea what to do now. Maybe there was another way to get to the edge of the forest….

Hermione changed her direction, and headed toward what looked like a brighter section of trees. As she approached, she noticed that the light was actually coming from a small clearing. She wrinkled her nose; the clearing was also emitting a foul smell. Wondering what the source of the odor could be, she walked up to the edge of the trees and looked around.

In the center of the clearing was a cauldron containing a simmering potion. The air was hazy with a pinkish smoke, and the trees reflected a soft red glow. "What in the world…" she wondered aloud.

Hermione was about to walk towards the cauldron, when she heard a pair of footsteps approaching. For a moment she thought it was Hagrid, but then realized he had no way of knowing where she was. That meant the footsteps couldn't possibly belong to anyone good. She started to panic, and then just as the figure was about to step through the trees, she turned around and jumped into a dense clump of bushes. A figure stepped through the trees and into the light. When Hermione saw who it was, she let out an inaudible gasp; it was Tom Riddle.

Tom strode toward the cauldron, carrying a bag and looking very excited. Thank goodness he hadn't noticed Hermione as she jumped out of sight; he was too preoccupied. Standing over the potion, he pulled a book out of his bag, and started flipping through it. He began mumbling to himself, though Hermione couldn't hear what he was saying; he was too far away.

Then she heard him say, "ah-ha!" after which he started mumbling to himself again. Hermione leaned forward and strained to hear what he was saying. She wanted to know what he was up to.

Still talking to himself, Tom started pulling various items out his bag and dropped them one by one into the cauldron. Hermione was able to catch only a few of his words, most of which were naming his ingredients. She heard him say "Boomslang skin," and "Asphodel Root" and "Powdered Griffin Claw." Then he pulled out a whole handful of shimmering hairs. Unicorn hair! No wonder Hermione was having a hard time finding those; Tom had already taken them.

He dropped the bunch into the potion and then took his wand from his pocket. Now Hermione was even more interested to hear what he was doing; combining a spell with a potion was advanced and very dangerous magic. Could this have anything to do with the creation of a Horcrux?

Hermione was getting anxious; she definitely did not want to be around Tom while he was performing Dark magic. And she still couldn't even hear what he was saying; now he was barely whispering the spell, his eyes closed and head tilted towards the sky. He was whispering fast, and waving his wand in complicated patterns. Suddenly, the cauldron began to emit a bright light, and Tom opened his eyes. He seemed even more excited now, and grabbed his book again to scribble some notes in it.

The cauldron began to dim, and Hermione realized that the potion was not ready yet; Tom was merely preparing it for another time. Right now he was glancing between his book and the cauldron, as if checking to make sure he had added everything correctly. Then, to Hermione's surprise, she caught the phrase, "the full moon," in between all of his other mumbling.

Tom placed his book back in his bag and walked out of the clearing. Hermione hesitated; Tom obviously knew the way out of the forest. But did she dare follow him? Thinking she'd rather face Tom than some monstrous beast, she ran out of the bushes and tried to see where he had gone. She caught sight of him up ahead, and followed him at a slight distance.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally arrived back at the path, and thankfully, Tom hadn't noticed her. She was just wondering where Hagrid had gone when she heard him calling her name out in the distance.

"Hagrid!" she called out, "Hagrid, I'm over here!"

"Hermione?" she heard him yell back.

Hermione knew where he was now. "Don't move; I'm coming!" She started running in the direction of his voice, and moments later, saw his oversized figure standing in a clearing. He saw her and started to walk over.

"Where'd yeh go?" he asked. He seemed very relieved to see that Hermione was still alive. Who knows what would have happened to him if he had gotten a girl killed in the forbidden forest.

"I fell," she said, "down a really steep hill, and…" she paused, wondering if she should tell Hagrid about Tom's potion. Would she upset history if she stopped his plans? "I saw Tom Riddle walking around. Have you ever seen him in here before?"

Hagrid's eyes widened. "Tom?" he asked sharply. "No, o'course not. Why would he be in here? I'm the only one allowed in, besides Ogg." He looked slightly annoyed.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know; I was asking you," she said. "I just saw him and wondered if he was allowed in the forest."

"Well he's not. He has no place bein' here. Did you see where he was goin'?"

"No, it looked like he was walking back to the school, actually."

Hagrid glanced over his shoulder and peered in between the trees. "I bet he was poking 'round, just ter try and get me inter trouble," he mumbled, "nosy busybody…."

Hermione sighed. He was obviously referring to Aragog being hidden in the forest. She had never met the giant spider before, and didn't plan on doing so now. Trying to avoid having to go "check up" on the Acromantula, she suggested they leave.

"Why don't we go? We've been in here for a while, and I'm sure we can get unicorn hair another day. We do have all summer before classes start, you know," she said.

"Yeah, I suppose yeh're right," he replied, "I've had enough o' this forest fer one day."


	7. Suspicions

**Author's Note: **We have one piece of advice for all of you who are trying to decide what to do after high school: don't become biology majors in college. Yes, that is the reason why we have taken an abysmally long time to post this chapter – we have been constantly studying for our endless array of exams. So we're sorry it's been a while, but once again, we have a long chapter to make up for it.

Oh, and also, thanks to all the reviews. They make us happy!

**Disclaimer:** Do YOU think we own anything?

* * *

Suspicions

Hermione couldn't believe what she had witnessed in the forest – no one was ever supposed to see that, and if anyone found out, history could be drastically changed. Tom was obviously creating a horcrux, and she could actually stop him! She was so tempted to tell Dumbledore, but she couldn't bring herself to do it; while she might change history for the better, she could also change it for the worse. In the end, she decided that it would be best to try to forget the whole incident, and stay away from Tom.

A few days after her adventure, Dumbledore approached her after dinner. "Miss Parks," he called as she was just about to leave the Great Hall. Hermione paused, and turned around to see the professor walking up to her. "Yes, Professor?" she asked.

"Miss Parks," he repeated, "it has recently occurred to me that you are soon going to need supplies for school." He motioned towards her robes. "I'm sure these are fine, but you may want some robes and books of your own. Would you like to go shopping in Diagon Alley tomorrow?"

Hermione hesitated. "Well, Professor," she said, "I'd like to, but I don't have any money with me."

"Oh that's fine – we have a fund for needy students. Can you apparate?"

"Yes, but…" she lowered her voice, "my license is probably not valid in this time period, right?"

His eyes twinkled. "Of course; you're right. I have forgotten about that. So you'll have to take the floo, then. Can you be at my office around ten o'clock?"

"Sure thing, professor."

"Goodbye, Miss Parks."

xxxxxx

The next day Hermione entered Dumbledore's office, eager to get off the school grounds. She was severely disappointed, though, when she saw Tom standing there, staring into the fireplace. "Hello, Professor," she said, giving him a questioning look.

"Ah yes, come in, Miss Parks," he said, motioning her to come close to the fire. "Tom will be escorting you to Diagon Alley today, so you don't have to travel alone."

Tom looked away from the fire and nodded his head. "Hello," he said politely.

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins. "Here is the money for your supplies," he said. "It should be enough to cover everything." Hermione thanked him and took the pouch.

"Off you go, then," Dumbledore said as he took a pinch of powder from the mantle and threw it into the fireplace. The first burst into a bright green flame, and Hermione stepped through.

As soon as they arrived in the Leaky Cauldron, Tom turned to her and asked, "Have you ever been to Diagon Alley before?"

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Good." He started walking out of the store, and Hermione ran to catch up.

"Why do you say _'good'_?" she asked.

"Because," he said, "I have some errands to run, and I can't baby-sit you all day."

She looked at him indignantly. The nerve of him to abandon her like that!

"I'm sure you can manage to _shop_ all by yourself," he continued. "Meet me back at the Leaky Cauldron in four hours." And with that, he walked briskly off in the opposite direction and out of sight.

Hermione stood stock-still, staring at the place he had just been moments before. She couldn't believe how blatantly rude he was! For a moment, she was tempted to follow him and see what "errands" he had to run, but she decided against it; the Hogwarts list was rather long, and it would probably take the whole four hours to find everything on it.

For the next few hours, Hermion walked around Diagon Alley, buying what she needed, and hanging around store fronts, gazing in at the window displays. She had gotten herself something to eat, and was actually enjoying herself. Eventually, she ended up in Flourish and Blotts, where she began to pick out her school books from the list.

She was browsing the shelves, when all of a sudden, the potions section caught her eye. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she walked over to find a book that might have a description of a potion similar to Tom's.

"Are you also interested in potions?" a voice asked behind her. Hermione looked up from the textbook she was holding and turned around to see a tall girl with dark brown hair standing with a large stack of books in her arms. She looked to be around Hermione's age.

Hermione nodded. "Not usually, but I'm doing some research on a certain kind….so far I haven't been able to find any, though."

The girl looked thoughtfully at the bookshelf in front of her. "I know what you mean. I like transfiguration the best, but potions can be interesting. What kind are you looking for?" she asked.

"Potions that require an accompanying incantation. I know that they're rare…."

"Oh, I know where you can find some of those!" the girl said, "hmm… now where did it go to?" She stood on tiptoes and squinted at a row of books. Then she said, "ah-ha!" and reached out for a large book on the top shelf.

Hermione took it and started flipping through the pages. "Thanks a lot," she said, "this should be helpful… I haven't been able to find anything in the Hogwarts library."

The girl looked at her in surprise. "Oh, you go to Hogwarts? I've never seen you before."

"I'm just starting – I was home-schooled up until now. I'm going to finish my last year at Hogwarts."

"Well I hope you like it there. I just graduated, and it was really wonderful." She stuck out her hand. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, by the way."

Hermione smiled. She had forgotten that McGonagall attended Hogwarts with Tom Riddle. "I'm Hermione Parks," she replied as they shook hands.

"Have you been sorted into a house yet?"

"Yeah, I'm in Gryffindor."

"Ooh! That was my old house!" She looked around and then said, "That reminds me… hey Elizabeth! Get over here for a minute and bring Vega! I want to show you someone."

Another girl walked up and yelled over her shoulder, "Oy! Vega! Get over here!" She came up besides McGonagall and waved to Hermione.

"Elizabeth, this is Hermione Parks. She's going to be a seventh year Gryffindor next year. Hermione, this is Elizabeth Michaels. She's also a seventh year Gryffindor."

"Wow, an exchange student? I didn't know we had those." Elizabeth said. Just then another girl walked up and stood next to Elizabeth. The two looked very similar, though where Elizabeth was tall and fair-haired, this new girl was a bit shorter and brunette. She was also carrying a stack of books, like McGonagall. "What do you want?" she asked Elizabeth.

"I wanted you to meet a new Gryffindor seventh year," McGonagall said. "Hermione, this is Vega Prewitt. You'll also be living with her." Vega looked very surprised. "Since when do we have exchange students?" she asked.

"Dumbledore's a family friend. He's doing me a favor," Hermione said. She was already getting tired of answering these kinds of questions.

"Hmm," Elizabeth said. "Well anyway, you'll love it at Hogwarts. It's a lot of work, but everyone's really nice. And the teachers are great. And so are the classes. Ooh, what do you plan on taking? Charms is my favorite… oh and Quidditch!" She kept talking as all four girls bought their books and walked out of the store.

They made their way down the street, Elizabeth still rambling on, and Vega interjecting every once and a while. Hermione wasn't really paying attention anymore, though it was nice to just be talked to for once. For the first time in a while, Hermione just let herself relax and enjoy the company of some peers. And it was such a nice day, too…. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the sun was shining brightly. She could see it illuminating the white Gringotts buiding, and… she stopped and stared. There was Tom Riddle, walking briskly down Gringotts' front steps, and pocketing a large bag coins.

The others noticed she had lagged behind, and paused. "What are you looking at?" Vega asked.

Hermione didn't say anything; she was still watching Tom hurry across the street.

They all craned their heads to see where Hermione was looking, and then they saw Tom. "Oh, that's Tom Riddle," McGonagall said. "He's head boy this year."

"Yeah, and even though he's a Slytherin, everyone seems to like him," Elizabeth added.

Vega rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't trust his charming façade. There's something strange about him."

"I know," Hermione said. "I've met him before. Actually, he brought me here. I was just curious to know why he was carrying a huge bag of gold, when I know he's from a Muggle orphanage.

Elizabeth frowned. "That is a bit odd," she said.

"Who knows?" said Vega. "But whatever he's up to, I'm sure it's no good."

"Yeah…." Hermione agreed. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Tom had disappeared down a side street; she wondered where he was running off to. "Well I better get going now," she said, "I still have a few errands to run before I need to get back to school."

"Okay, it was nice meeting you," McGonagall replied.

"Yep – see you in September!" Elizabeth said.

Hermione smiled brightly as they all waved goodbye, and waited until they turned a corner before rushing off in the direction Tom had gone.

She was obviously heading towards Knockturn Alley. The street was getting narrower and darker, and the shops were getting increasing dodgy looking. It didn't surprise her that Tom was already hanging around here; he probably loved it. As she passed a group of shady-looking wizards standing around a store front, she told herself that she really shouldn't be here – this was certainly dangerous. She knew she said she was going to mind her own business, but she just couldn't help but find out what he was up to.

Hermione didn't know where to go anymore; there were so many side streets around here, Tom could have gone anywhere. She ended up just taking a guess and turning down one particularly dark street, and after a few moments heard voices. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but one sounded young. Hermione strained her ears to hear if it really was Tom when the door she was standing by started to open.

"Well good luck tonight, Mr. Riddle," an older voice said from beyond the door.

"Thank you," a smooth voice replied, "until next week, then."

Hermione's eye widened. It was Tom, and he was just about to walk out the door! She had to find somewhere to hide. She spun around and ran towards a small alleyway between the buildings just as she heard the door fully open and footsteps enter the street. She hugged the side of the building, hoping that Tom hadn't heard anything, and thought for a split second that he hadn't. But seconds later his footsteps stopped, and she could sense him gazing around the entire area.

She needed to disappear, and quickly. Oh why couldn't her apparition license be valid here? Hermione looked around frantically and spotted a small hole in the fence standing between the two buildings. Maybe if she was quiet, she could squeeze through unnoticed….

Hermione crouched down on the ground and began to crawl silently towards the fence. Up close, she could see that the hole was just too small for her to slide through, so she began to pry it open a little bit farther. Just then, the wood beneath her fingers creaked loudly and she heard the footsteps again, this time coming towards her. Now she had no choice but to squeeze through the hole, tiny as it was.

She stuck her head through first and then began pushing with her feet from the other side. At first they wouldn't budge, though after a moment, she slid all the way through, and she scrambled up away from the gapping hole. There was no place to go from here, so she pressed her body up against the side of the fence, and hoped that he wouldn't be able to see her at this angle.

His footsteps slowed as he reached the fence. Then she saw the faint glow of light from a wand, and all she could think was, _Oh God, he can do nonverbal spells! _The light seeped in through the cracks of the wooden fence and illuminated her shaking hands in thin stripes. She held her breath as she saw the light move, and then disappear as he walked over to the other side of the alley, probably looking behind a trash can.

Finally, he actually walked away, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She collapsed against the side of the fence and closed her eyes. _That was close_, she thought to herself wearily. She checked the time and groaned. Tom was probably heading towards the Leaky Cauldron right now – and he would be expecting to see her there. She would need to catch up with him immediately, or he would be suspicious.

Hermione was able to crawl back through the fence relatively easily, now that she had already passed through it, and started to run back out of the alley. She couldn't see Tom anywhere up ahead… well, she had given him a minute or so head start before she had even crawled through the fence. He was probably already halfway there by now.

She kept running through Knockturn Alley, ignoring the wild stares she was probably receiving from the occasional passerby, until she finally burst through the light of Diagon Alley. Now maybe if she found an alternate path to the Leaky Cauldron, she could enter through a side door and pretend to have been looking for Tom this whole time….

Suddenly, she ran headfirst into someone and fell backwards on the street. She looked up and breathed a sigh of relief; standing above her was McGonagall, Elizabeth, and Vega.

"Hermione!" McGonagall exclaimed as she extended a hand, "what were you doing running like that? And you're all filthy…."

Hermione stood and brushed herself off. "Sorry about that; I need to get to the Leaky Cauldron immediately." She paused, and looked at Elizabeth and Vega still staring at her in astonishment.

"Hermione…" Vega said slowly, "did you actually go after Tom?"

"Well… yes. But I have no time to explain right now. Listen, can you guys help me out? I can't let Tom know I was following him."

They all nodded, and Hermione beckoned them to follow her. As the four girls started jogging together towards the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione said, "You don't have to do much…. Can you just say goodbye to me when we get there, and act like I was with you all along?"

They nodded again. In a few moments, they approached the Leaky Cauldron, and Hermione paused to catch her breath. "Okay, let's go in," she said.

McGonagall held her back. "Wait," she said. She took out her wand and began pointing at various places on Hermione's clothing, muttering, "scourgify."

Hermione looked down at herself. She was a whole lot cleaner than before, though she still looked as though she had been climbing a tree. "Thanks," she said. It was better than nothing.

She opened the door and led the way in. _Maybe Tom isn't even here after all,_ she thought to herself, but sure enough, he was sitting at a table waiting for her, looking quite impatient.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well thanks for the help with the Hogwarts stuff, girls," she said to the group behind her.

"Oh no problem," Elizabeth replied.

"Yeah, it was nothing," said McGonagall.

"We can't wait to see you in September!" said Vega.

Hermione waved as they all walked out. "Bye!" she called cheerfully. Then she turned back towards Tom and said, "Sorry to make you wait, but we were having so much fun, we just lost track of time."

He looked at her for a moment and then said, "I'm sure you had immense fun _exploring_ Diagon Alley and the… _surrounding area_."

So he knew! But luckily, he had no evidence against her, so Hermione ignored his comment. "Are you ready, then?" she asked.

Tom nodded, and then led the way back towards the fireplace.

Back at Hogwarts, Hermione stepped out of the grate and into Dumbledore's office. The professor was sitting at his desk reading a book, and looked up when they arrived. "Did you find everything you needed, Miss Parks?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Hermione said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bag of coins he had given her earlier, now considerably lighter, and placed it on his desk. "Thank you again – and here's your change."

Dumbledore smiled and dismissed the two from his office. Hermione didn't wait around to be confronted by Tom; she bolted for the Gryffindor common room as soon as the door was closed. Once again, she scolded herself for spying on Tom when she shouldn't have. But she couldn't help it. The potion he was working on was so interesting…. That made her remember something she heard while back in the alley: someone mentioned something about tonight! Was the potion finally ready?

The more she thought about it, the more she was certain Tom was going to go out into the forest tonight to finish the potion; tonight was, after all, the full moon. It would make sense that a potion simmering under the heavens would be completed during the full moon.

This excited her – she might actually be able to see him make a horcrux! But it would be so dangerous. Though she hadn't been caught by Tom yet… and seeing this might be helpful in the future – even if it just meant her finding out what his first horcrux was. And knowing what it is might be the key to destroying Voldemort once and for all. Her mind was made up: she would go to see Lord Voldemort create his first horcrux.


	8. Bottoms Up

**Authors' note: **We know it's been forever since our last update – sorry! We started this chapter in April, and then got caught up in finals for a while. THEN we had to move back home for the summer before we started writing again. Unfortunately, that chapter was awful, and we had to scrap it completely. So, finally, here is the new and improved Chapter 8!

And just to let you all know, Chapter 9 has been written also, and will be posted in the next week. Updates will definitely come quicker now that it's the summer – we promise!

One more thing: Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews. They really inspire us to keep going! Also, thank you to our anonymous reviewers, who we can't respond to otherwise. Your constructive criticism is great, and we really keep it in mind when we're writing.

**Disclaimer:** As you know, we own nothing.

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Bottoms Up

Hermione paced up and down a corridor, trying to calm her nerves. Every once in a while she would stop and peer expectantly out a window in hopes of seeing Tom enter the forest. Finding nothing suspicious, she would sigh and then turn away to pace some more.

It was sunset, and she had been at this for the better part of an hour. Hermione knew that watching the grounds wasn't the most brilliant plan of action, but at least it gave her some time to figure out how to follow Tom unnoticed. Unfortunately, she would have to follow him closely if she were to get a glimpse of his horcrux, because she couldn't remember the exact location of the clearing. This would certainly be dangerous, and he would probably spot her, but at this point, Hermione didn't care. She had nothing to lose; why not try to be useful?

Perhaps she should just run into the forest right now, while it was still light out. Tom was probably already in there; he hadn't been present at dinner. He had disappeared as soon as they returned from Diagon Alley. Then again, he was often missing at meals, so this wasn't too suspicious…. She paused, and looked out the window again. As before, there was no sign of Tom, or any unusual activity around the forest. She could only see Hagrid, meandering around the pumpkin patch, probably enjoying a bit of the lingering sunlight. Hopefully, he would move inside before she had to slip into the forest, or she would have to think of a way to distract him.

Hermione was about to move away from the window and start pacing again, when she did a double take, staring at Hagrid in surprise. He was walking straight towards the forbidden forest. She groaned. Hagrid never went into the forest at night! Why did he have to pick tonight to change his routine? She'd have to stop him, or he'd probably get hurt; if not from Tom, then from some other dangerous nocturnal creature.

She ran outside, and tried to wave him over as she approached. "Hagrid!" she called. "Hagrid – wait up!"

He looked briefly over his shoulder at the mention of his name, and then continued walking in the direction of the forest. Hermione caught up with him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He swatted her hand away. "Er, nothin' – nothin's the matter, Hermione. I just forgot ter take care o' somthin' before. Don' worry 'bout me."

"But Hagrid, it's getting dark out. I'm sure whatever you need to do can wait until tomorrow morning," she persisted.

"Really, I'm fine," he said, walking faster, "why don' yeh go back inside?"

Hermione groaned. Why was he being so difficult? "Hagrid, I have to insist that you stay out of the forest tonight – it's dangerous in there!"

This time Hagrid stopped and turned around, glaring at her. "Hermione… go now," he growled in a low voice. He stood staring at her for a moment, hatred etched into every line of his face. He looked haggard and irritated beyond belief. Something was obviously wrong. Hermione opened her mouth to say something consoling, and perhaps coax him back towards the castle, but on second thought, closed it; this was not a Hagrid to argue with. So she simply continued staring in shock as he turned on his heel and stalked into the forest.

She stood like that for another minute or so, not knowing if she should run in after him or go get help. Hermione shook her head. No, she'd have to think of something else. So she started pacing again.

"Great," she muttered to herself. "Just great. Hagrid's in danger, I'm probably in danger… I can't stop Riddle from doing anything or I'll mess up the future…." She walked through the dewy grass, nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "I'm walking in the middle of the field, so he can probably see me, if he's not already in the process of making the horcrux…. And on top of all that, I'm talking to myself."

Eventually, her pacing wore her out and she sank into the soft grass, resting her head between her knees. "Oh well, I tried…." she said dejectedly. Hermione sat with her eyes closed, listening to crickets chirping and the birds calling to one another. The evening would have been so peaceful if she hadn't been so worried.

Suddenly, she heard a noise in the distance. She picked her head up and tried to determine which direction it was originating from. It was too loud to be from the forbidden forest; in fact, it sounded to be closer to the castle, as if coming from around the greenhouses.

Hermione got up and walked cautiously towards the first greenhouse. She could hear it clearly now; something was definitely making a lot of noise, though she couldn't see what it was. Quietly, she lit her wand and pushed open the greenhouse door. The noise grew exponentially louder, and she could now hear that it was a muffled screaming. Hermione pointed her wand towards the floor, and after a moment of searching, found the source of the commotion; it was Hagrid.

Hermione gasped, and ran over to his body lying in the far corner of the room. He was thrashing wildly around, though he didn't seem to have control of his hands or feet. "Hagrid!" Hermione cried out as she leaned over him. "What on earth happened to you?"

Hagrid continued making muffled shouts. "Oh, sorry," she said. He was obviously bound by magic. She muttered the counter curse and his limbs sprung apart. At the same time, his invisible gag disappeared, and he choked back a scream. "Thank you!" he gasped, embracing Hermione in a powerful hug. "I didn' think anyone would ever find me!"

Hermione patted him on the back and, out of breath, wheezed an indecipherable response. Hagrid quickly let go and smiled sheepishly.

"Right," she said impatiently, massaging her neck. "Now can you please tell me what happened?"

A worried look crossed his face. "Well ter be honest, I don' know," he explained. "I was sittin' outside, mindin' my own business, when all o' a sudden I heard someone come up behind me, an' then I blacked out. When I woke up, I was lyin' in here, all tied up."

"Wait – so you never went into the forest tonight?"

He shook his head. "No, o' course not. Why?"

Suddenly, Hermione understood what had happened tonight. "Polyjuice potion," she said. Hagrid narrowed his eyes, so she repeated herself. "Polyjuice potion is used to disguise one's self as another. Tonight, Tom Riddle used it to masquerade himself as you. He needed to get into the forest without anyone noticing…. You're always working in there, so it would be the perfect cover-up. Of course, he had to make sure the real Hagrid didn't make an appearance while he was walking around, so that's why he tied you up."

Hagrid stared at her, his mouth agape. "Why would he do all o' this?" he asked.

Hermione hesitated. Should she tell him the truth? This was certainly messing with time, but he would probably find out anyway. "Do you remember the other day when I saw him in the forest?"

He nodded.

"Well I saw where he was. He was in a clearing, working on a dangerous looking potion. I think he went back there tonight to finish it."

His eyes widened. "Really? D'yeh know wha' he was makin'? We should probably tell someone 'bout this."

"No!" Hermione said. "Er, well, not right now. I was thinking about following him tonight, to make sure he was doing something illegal, and then mentioning it to Dumbledore," she lied.

"I should go with yeh," he said, standing up. "Yeh'll get lost in the dark without me."

Hermione nodded. "That's a really good idea," she said. "I'm not even sure exactly where the clearing was in the first place." She described the area to him, and how she got there before.

Hagrid stared at the ground pensively, listening to her story. "I think I can find it," he said after she stopped talking. "I know the hill yeh're talking 'bout, an' the clearing shouldn' be too far from there. Should we go now?"

"Yes, I think now would be an excellent time to go."

xxxxxx

The two of them crept silently along through the forest, Hagrid leading the way, and Hermione lighting his path with her wand from behind. As they headed deeper and deeper into the woods, Hagrid seemed to become less sure of himself. He paused often and changed direction suddenly. Meanwhile, Hermione strained her ears to hear any sound of movement, and also continually cursed herself for trusting Hagrid to lead her off the forest trail in the dark. She wondered if they would ever manage to find the clearing.

To her surprise, they actually did. After half an hour, the forest began to brighten, and she could see a reddish glow reflecting off the trees. Just ahead was the clearing, in the middle of which stood Tom. They paused a few yards from the perimeter of the clearing, and Hermione motioned over to Hagrid, who was staring at the bubbling cauldron in the distance. He turned his head and followed her behind a large fallen log. Though it was a tight fit, the two managed to position themselves so they both had a decent view of the clearing.

Hermione could just make out Tom's figure standing beside the glowing cauldron. He was leaned over its edge, slowly stirring its contents. The light reflected from the potion bounced off the walls of the cauldron and hit his face, flickering across his sharp features. Hermione could see that he was excited; though his face was lined with tension, his eyes flashed as they gazed at his own handiwork. The sight sent chills down her spine.

As he continued stirring, he began to mutter incantations. Hermione couldn't make out any of the words – it was all nonsense to her. The potion glowed even brighter, like it had the last time, and emitted sparks all over the place. At this, Tom quickly pulled a glass bottle from his robes and filled it with the violently red potion.

Hermione held her breath – this was it! He was about to make the horcrux! She shifted upwards a bit to get a better look at the object, but still couldn't see it.

Indeed, Tom had nothing in his hands but the potion now. He studied it carefully then whispered a few last words before he bottomed the entire thing. At first, nothing happened. Then he seemed to go very still. His entire body tensed up, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. His hand, still clutching the bottle, released its grip, and glass shattered at his feet.

Meanwhile, Hagrid was next to her cowering. Hermione glanced at him and saw that he was inching away; she hurriedly made a grab for his wrist, to prevent him from leaving her stranded with a very dangerous Tom Riddle.

She looked back at Tom, who was now showing some signs of life. His eyelids clenched shut and he began to breathe heavily. Then he stumbled forwards, and crouched towards the ground, clutching his chest. His body shook violently as he moaned in pain and tried to grab hold of something to steady himself. Then, as it seemed he couldn't control himself any longer, his head shot up and he looked towards the perimeter of the clearing. His gaze rested on the shadows where Hermione and Hagrid were hiding, and his eyes widened.

Hermione gasped: had he seen her? She didn't have long to worry over this, though, because at that point, Tom fell down his back, writhing all over. The potion was apparently working now, because his body started to glow red from the middle and spread outward. Then suddenly, the light extinguished and he lay still on the ground. His moans subsided, and he sat quietly, gasping for breath, before he rolled over and passed out cold.

Hermione stared in shock. What a violent spell! She never would have pictured the creation of a horcrux quite like that. But where was the actual object itself? She yearned to run over and search his body for it, if not to destroy it right then and there, then to at least know what it was.

However, she didn't dare do this. Tom had possibly spotted them, and Hermione didn't want to be anywhere near the forest when he woke up. She looked over at Hagrid, who was now pressed up against the side of the log and trembling. His eyes were wide and told her that he wanted to leave also.

She caught his gaze and, putting a finger to her lips, jerked her head in the direction from which they came. He understood, and the pair silently removed themselves from that area of the forest.

Once they were on the grounds again, Hagrid turned to her and whispered, "Hermione, d'yeh know wha' kind o' potion that was?"

She shook her head. "I told you earlier, I've never seen a potion quite like that before."

"Well maybe Professor Dumbledore will recognize it when we tell him. What d'yeh think?" he asked.

Hermione's stomach dropped. Hagrid was really going to rat out Tom after all; she had hoped he would forget to do so. Now Dumbledore would know Tom was up to no good, and would probably interfere somehow. _Wonderful_, she thought sarcastically.

"I don't know, Hagrid; he might."

xxxxxx

Hermione stood at Transfiguration professor's door and knocked nervously. Hagrid stood next to her, looking anxious; he probably couldn't wait to get back at Tom for causing his expulsion. She never would have guessed that Hagrid was the vindictive type.

After a few moments, the door opened, and out stepped a very confused looking Dumbledore. "Hermione? Hagrid? What brings the two of you here so very late at night?"

"Well, Professor," Hermione started. She looked at Hagrid, who was nodding her on. "Um… actually, can we step inside your office for a minute? I don't think it's a good idea to talk out here."

He gave her an odd look, but stepped aside to let them through, and motioned to two chairs. "Please sit down," he said.

After they did so, Hermione spoke again. "Professor, we saw something tonight that we thought you would like to know about." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but she continued on.

"A few hours ago, I thought I saw Hagrid go into the Forbidden Forest. Soon after that, I heard shouts coming from the greenhouses, and saw that he had actually been tied up by magical bindings. We figured that someone had posed as Hagrid to enter the forest, so we decided to follow him." She paused, wondering how to phrase the next part of their story.

"It was Tom, Professor!" Hagrid interrupted.

That was one way to go about saying it.

She nodded in agreement. "We ended up finding the imposter, and it turned out to be Tom, who was brewing some potion I've never seen before."

Dumbledore looked at her curiously. "Did he see the two of you?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Hermione replied. "He was busy with his potion, and he passed out after he drank it."

"Hmm…." Dumbledore started to pace. "This is very interesting. And you don't know anything about the potion itself?"

"No, except that it was bright red."

"Well thank you for telling me this. What Tom did tonight sounds very illegal, and I'll make sure he receives the proper punishment."

Hermione groaned inwardly, while Hagrid smiled broadly.

The professor walked over to the door and started to open it. "You two should be off to bed. But," he paused, staring at them thoughtfully. "I should warn you that the forest is very dangerous, especially at night. Please don't wander off the path again."

They nodded fervently and walked out into the corridor. Hermione stopped and said to Hagrid, "You go on. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore about something else." Maybe now she could actually do some damage control. Hagrid shrugged and then waved goodbye. "G'night, then," he said.

Hermione looked back at Dumbledore who was still standing by the door, wearing an amused expression on his face. "I suspect you know more about what happened tonight than you let on?" he suggested.

She sighed. "Yes, I think so."

They walked back into his office, and Dumbledore closed the door. Hermione looked up at him and said, "Please, Professor, you can't tell anyone about Tom. I know what he did tonight, and if anyone finds out or stops him, it will drastically change the future. I only told you about it because Hagrid insisted. You must understand how important this is."

Dumbledore walked behind his desk and sat down, staring wearily at his hands. "I had a feeling you were going to say that," he said. "In your time, no one knew about this incident?"

"No. Not until many years later. I messed up tonight; no one was supposed to find him, but I allowed it to happen. And I can't let this stupid mistake ruin the course of history," she replied.

"Of course not. Although I'm sure you're presence here is, inevitably, having some effect on the future. I'm afraid there's no preventing that, Miss Parks."

She nodded. "I know I'm bound to change some things, but this is a significant event in wizarding history. If some subsequent events don't fall into place, the future will be hugely impacted."

"Don't worry, Miss Parks; I won't say a word of this to anyone. Though we can let Hagrid believe I did," he smiled.

"Thank you so much," Hermione said, getting up. "This really means a lot to me."

After bidding Dumbledore goodnight, she left his office in high spirits. Perhaps she hadn't ruined the future after all! Now she just had to make sure that Hagrid didn't mention this to anyone else. Though why would he, if he believed Tom had already received a just punishment? Stifling a yawn, she returned to the Gryffindor Tower and decided that she would work things out with Hagrid in the days to come.


	9. Cruel Injustice

**Authors Note: **Finally, a speedy update! Aren't you proud of us? And on top of that, it's of record length: over 4,500 words. So let us know what you think! Once again, thanks for the reviews – we love to hear from you guys!

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing, except thousands of dollars in college tuition.

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Cruel Injustice

_Had she gone mad?_ For days to come, Hermione cursed her stupidity. She had actually allowed herself to follow Tom Riddle – the young Voldemort – around Diagon Alley and the forest. She could have gotten herself killed! And, on top of that, she had brought Hagrid into danger. Snooping around the forest with him was hazardous enough, but she had actually shown him the creation of the first horcrux! Now, even Dumbledore knew! Surely, this was not supposed to happen.

She tried to console herself; she had a lapse of judgment, yes, but doesn't everyone at some point? After all, she was currently in an emotional upset; not only had she just lost all her friends and family, but she was suddenly forced to live her life in a completely different time. Certainly, these circumstances would cause anyone to go mental for a while. Yes, that was the perfect excuse: she had used Tom Riddle as a distraction, because she couldn't face the fact that she was still distraught over losing everyone. And now that she caught herself, she would be able to stop her foolishness and fix everything that she had nearly ruined. Hopefully, her talk with Dumbledore really had prevented him from talking to Tom or investigating the situation more. If so, then she only had to worry about convincing Hagrid to keep him mouth shut.

Thankfully, this seemingly impossible task turned out to be quite easy. Hermione told Hagrid that Dumbledore had talked to Tom, though she didn't know the details. All she knew was that Tom didn't know who had snitched on him, and perhaps, it would be best to leave things this way. If Hagrid went around mentioning the incident, it could get out to Tom that it had been them who spied on him, and that could be potentially dangerous. They, of course, didn't want an angry Tom planning his revenge.

To her delight, Hagrid wholeheartedly agreed that it would be safest to forget the whole thing ever happened. Now, she only had to worry about any possible accusations from Tom. Even though Dumbledore (supposedly) didn't breathe a word of their witness to him, Hermione was worried that he had been smart enough to figure everything out himself. She was especially concerned because he might have actually _seen_ them in the forest that night. Once again, she mentally kicked herself for being so careless.

Despite her worrying, though, Tom didn't give her any trouble. In the following days she rarely saw him, and when she did, he seemed hardly in a state to pick a fight; for a whole week afterwards he appeared to be pale, tired, and even a bit sickly. She wondered if something really had gone wrong with the horcrux, or if this was just the normal aftereffects of splitting one's soul.

Even after his health improved, he never once said anything to Hermione. Actually, she observed one day while they were both in the library, he was downright ignoring her. This lifted her spirits; perhaps he really hadn't seen them after all!

With this in mind, she was finally able to convince herself that everything had worked itself out in the end. Suddenly, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders; though still far from carefree, her whole demeanor relaxed, and she allowed herself to forget her mistakes, forget the fact that she was missing Harry and Ron terribly, and enjoy the rest of her summer.

August flew by and soon, Hermione found herself sitting in the Great Hall on September first, awaiting the arrival of the remaining students. For the first time all summer, the four long house tables lined the hall, and the staff table resumed its normal spot at the front. The summer occupants of the castle were all present and sitting at their respective tables: Hermione at Gryffindor, Tom at Slytherin, and Hagrid, along with the professors, up at the staff table. The entire faculty was also in attendance, except for Dumbledore and Ogg, who were presumably escorting the students to the building.

Hermione had met the new professors the night before, and they seemed nice enough, if not entirely forgettable. The only one she recognized, of course, was Slughorn, and she could hardly say she was happy to see the familiar face. Slughorn seemed very interested in the new transfer student, and kept asking her questions during dinner. This was slightly awkward for Hermione, as she still hadn't hammered out all the details of her "transfer" yet, and she tried to get away from him as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, she was sure their conversation hadn't been finished when she ran off, and figured he would continue it sometime in the following days.

Just then the huge front doors opened, breaking her thoughts, and dozens of students began to enter. Almost immediately, she heard someone shout her name.

"Hermione!" Elizabeth sprang into view and grasped her in a one-armed hug around the shoulders. Under layers of golden hair, Hermione could see a smiling Vega in the background, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Elizabeth, you idiot, get off her or we might not have an extra roommate this year."

Elizabeth loosened her grip. "Oh, sorry, Hermione. I was just happy to see you still alive…." She grinned. "You know, after you played _I Spy Tom Riddle_ in Diagon Alley."

"Of course I'm still alive. I didn't get caught," Hermione replied as she glanced over to the Slytherin table. Tom was being greeted by a large group of surly looking Slytherins. He didn't seem to care, and only nodded his head in acknowledgement. She looked back at Vega and Elizabeth, who were seating themselves next to her, and added, "Actually, can you not mention that to anyone? I don't want him to find out."

"Don't worry about it," Vega said.

"Hey, hey!" A voice rang in their ears. Hermione turned around to see a tall, grinning boy walk up, and give Elizabeth and Vega a hug each. "I didn't see you guys on the train!" he said, sitting across the three girls.

"We were sitting towards the back," Elizabeth said. "It was kind of hard to come by."

The boy shrugged. "Ah well…." He turned to look at Hermione. "Hey, you're the new girl! My name's Roger." He extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm Hermione."

"I know. The girls told me all about you," he said, turning around to high-five a group of boys passing by. "Heyyy!" they all called out in unison. He looked back at Hermione, smiling broadly. "So what do you think so far? Of Hogwarts, that is?"

Hermione glanced around at the people filing in the room, laughing and chatting with friends. They didn't look much different than the students in her time, she noticed, except for the fact that none seemed worried or depressed. In fact, if she hadn't known better, she might have thought she was back in third year. "It feels just like home," she replied, a bit nostalgic.

The Great Hall started to quiet then, because the big entrance doors swung open once more, and in walked Dumbledore followed by a crowd of very nervous looking first years. They were promptly sorted, and then Dippet got up to give his start-of-term speech.

It was a rather standard speech, though Dippet did mention a change in staff. "As some of you might already know," he said, "Professor Merrythought retired at the end of last year. Therefore, I would like to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Grimstone." Hermione laughed to herself; some things never changed.

Dippet was about to sit down, when he turned back to the school. "Oh, and one more thing," he said. "We have a transfer student this year, Miss Hermione Parks." The whole school erupted into whispers, and Hermione could see the students closest to her craning their heads to get a good look at the new girl. Embarrassed, she slumped down in her seat, trying to hide from view.

He cleared his throat. "She's already been sorted into Gryffindor, and I hope you will all make her stay at Hogwarts enjoyable. Now I'm sure you're all hungry, so–" His voice was then drowned out by a roar of voices and clinking of silverware, as the students began helping themselves to the newly appeared platters of food.

Hermione was just serving herself some roast beef when a blonde girl in Gryffindor robes rushed up and squeezed herself in at the table next to Roger. She was short – even smaller than Vega, and had a round, freckled face.

The girl looked earnestly at Elizabeth and said, "You'll never _guess_ what I just heard!"

Vega rolled her eyes while Elizabeth sat up in her seat, and said excitedly through a mouthful of steak, "what?"

"Well," the blonde lowered her voice. Everyone else leaned in close to hear what she had to say. "I was just talking to Martha, and found out that she almost didn't come to school this year!"

Roger and Elizabeth gasped. "Why?" they asked in unison.

She lowered her voice even further. "Apparently, her parents didn't want her to be at school during the middle of the war. They didn't think it was safe. So if anything goes wrong, they're pulling her out."

Vega shook her head. "Wow."

"They're completely mental," said Roger.

"But knowing Martha's parents, that doesn't surprise me," Elizabeth said. Then she added, for Hermione's sake, "Martha Hughes is another Gryffindor seventh year. You'll meet her later."

The blonde looked at Hermione, as if she was only seeing her now. "Oh hi," she said. "You must be the new girl. I'm Laura."

"Hermione," she answered.

"Anyway," Vega said, continuing the conversation, "Our problem is that the war is also involving Muggles. It could spiral out of control very quickly, and people don't feel safe anywhere."

"But Hogwarts is perfectly safe," Hermione pointed out.

Laura grinned. "That's what they say, isn't it? I dunno; I don't feel safe anywhere around here…. Maybe somewhere in America would be okay. They don't seem to have too many problems."

"Let's just hope for Martha's sake _we _don't have any problems this year. It'd be awful to have to leave school," said Elizabeth.

"I know, poor Martha," Laura replied. She got up from the table. "Well I should go. I promised Mark I'd visit him during dinner. See you guys later!"

They all waved goodbye and struck up new conversations while finishing their food. Apparently, both Roger and Elizabeth were on the Quidditch team, and they were talking discussing tactics with a mousy headed girl Hermione didn't know. Meanwhile, Vega was trying to introduce Hermione to as many Gryffindors as she could.

"Well that's my brother down there," she pointed to a boy in glasses sitting halfway down the table. "His name is Altair. Elizabeth has two sisters. That one is Mara – she's a third year. The other one, Violet, is actually a sixth year Slytherin. I don't know where that came from…."

Hermione's eyes traveled down the table, looking at all the Gryffindors. They seemed friendly enough; every once and a while someone would spot her and wave hello or even come up and introduce themselves.

Suddenly, her heart skipped a beat. Sitting only a few seats down was… Harry? No; his face was too round, and he was a bit shorter, but he still had the same messy black hair, the glasses, and a matching nose…."

Vega saw Hermione staring at the Harry-look-alike. "Oh that's Jack Wentworth. He's on the Quidditch team with Roger and Elizabeth."

"Huh," Hermione said, slightly confused. "He looks just like someone I used to know. Is he related to a Potter at all?"

"Actually, yes." Vega said between mouthfuls of muffin. "Charlus Potter is his cousin; though he graduated a few years ago."

"Oh, okay." All of a sudden, Hermione felt quite homesick. Seeing someone who looked so much like Harry made her remember how much they all had missed him… and how now she was also missing Ron.

_Oh Ron._ He hadn't done anything wrong, and she had deserted him. Here she was, enjoying herself at a feast, when he was left all alone. _Some friend she was. _What was he going through, now that he had lost both Harry and Hermione?

"Hermione… _Hermione!_" Vega snapped her fingers, breaking her thoughts. "Are you okay? You've gone all pale."

Hermione dropped her fork. "I'm fine," she said, "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

But the unfortunate truth was, Hermione thought as she continued listening to Vega's description of the school, and even later, as she was personally introduced to all of the students in the Gryffindor Common Room, that she had never felt so alone in her entire life.

xxxxxx

Hermione still felt awful the next morning, but tried to put her thoughts of Ron aside and concentrate on school instead. She was studying her newly received timetable at breakfast when Vega looked over her shoulder and said, "Hmm. That's weird."

"What?" Hermione replied.

"You're taking Newt Defense Against the Dark Arts at a different time than I am. I didn't know we had enough Newt level students to fill up two classes."

Elizabeth looked up from her schedule. "Oh really?" she said. "When do you both have it, then?"

"Monday and Thursday mornings," Hermione said.

"Tuesdays and Fridays," said Vega.

"I have it with Hermione," Elizabeth replied, looking back at her timetable. After comparing the rest of their schedules, they found that they were all in the same potions class that afternoon.

"I wonder what Professor Grimstone is going to be like," Elizabeth said as they made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "You know, this is the first time we've ever had a new professor before."

"Don't worry; he can't be nearly as bad as some of my past teachers," Hermione said, knowing full well that Grimstone taught successfully at Hogwarts for the next fifteen years until his sudden death in the late fifties. She went on to describe the antics of some of her less… qualified… professors.

Elizabeth was laughing about Hermione's second year pixie incident when they entered the classroom. What they saw did not improve Hermione's previous mood.

The small room held about a dozen students, over half of which were Slytherin. Not surprisingly, Tom Riddle sat in the middle of the lot, arrogantly ignoring everyone. _Today is going to be a very bad day, _she thought darkly, before sitting down removed from the rest of the class.

A few minutes later, a short and balding man dressed in dark blue robes walked in.

"Hello everyone!" he said, smiling at everyone. "I trust you all had a pleasant holiday?"

The class remained silent.

He cleared his throat. "My name is Professor Grimstone. As I'm new here, I thought we'd take it easy today… perhaps just introduce you to the Newt level course work. It's a lot to deal with, as you know, so we should at least know what we're up against. Also, as you may have noticed, the class is a little smaller this year; I did this on purpose. I thought it might be useful to split the class in two, so we have a smaller group to work with. Maybe we'll have more time to work on individual problems before your examination at the end of the year…."

He continued on like this for the better part of an hour, explaining class goals and expectations. Hermione looked over at Elizabeth and saw that she was clearly not paying attention. She had her head propped up in one hand, and was doodling idly with the other. If that had been Harry or Ron, she would have kicked them in the shins and told them to pay attention, but as she barely knew Elizabeth, she kept her mouth shut and feet to herself.

Towards the end of class, Grimstone started talking about group work in class. "I'll assign you and your partner regular work to be done outside of class," he was saying. "You'll also do work in class, and the occasional project together. For simplicity's sake, I've already drawn up the partners–"

The class groaned.

"–and grouped everyone together by alphabetical order."

The class groaned even louder.

"Bloody hell," Elizabeth said. "I'll probably get stuck with Miller. I always get stuck with Miller when we're placed alphabetically."

"So if everyone can stand up," he continued, "I'll assign you your partner and seating arrangement."

The class picked up their stuff and moved to the front of the room. Grimstone began pairing off people as he walked up and down the aisles, pointing at desks. "Avery-Brand, Fisher-Griffiths, Higgs-Jugson, Lestrange-MacMillan, Michaels-Miller…. He paused. "Ah yes, Parks and Riddle, right here…."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. Why did she always seem to come up with the short end of the stick? This was sure to be awkward, especially since neither had said a word to the other since their trip to Diagon Alley. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag and sat beside Tom. He glanced at her and nodded. "Parks."

"Riddle."

They sat in an icy silence while Professor Grimstone finished calling the names. Hermione turned around and saw Elizabeth behind her, looking disgruntled next to a dark-skinned Ravenclaw. She sat slumped in her chair, arms crossed and eyes glaring, while the boy next to her poked her in the side and waggled his eyebrows. Somehow, it made Hermione feel a little bit better knowing that she wasn't the only one hating their current situation.

xxxxxx

"I told you, I always get stuck with Miller without fail," Elizabeth whined as they walked to Potions. "He's so… _foul!_ Always making some crude comment; you'd think he was twelve!" She tugged at her hair in frustration.

Hermione grimaced. "Well at least you're not stuck with Riddle. He's _awful_. I can't believe my luck…. Oh no, wait a minute." She stopped and started rummaging through her bag. "I forgot my Potions textbook."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, its okay; I'll run and get it myself. You go to class," she replied.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Okay then; see you in a few minutes."

Hermione left to go grab her book. She knew this would make her late to class, and as she walked into the dungeon fifteen minutes later, she really wished that she had not bothered to make the trip.

"Miss Parks!" Slughorn cried happily as she stood in the back of the classroom. "How nice of you to join us!"

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor," she replied awkwardly.

"It's no problem, my dear girl. We were just partnering everyone up! Now it seems everyone is already in a group except Mr. Riddle here, so why don't you work with him?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. She would have to work with him in _two_ classes? Oh, the injustice! She swallowed and thanked him as sweetly as possible, before slowly heading up the aisle. Neither Tom nor Hermione acknowledged one another as she sat down, and they waited in silence for Slughorn to begin his lecture.

"So," Slughorn said, smiling broadly. "Now that we're all here, we can start. There's a lot to cover so I figured we'd jump right in with a practical class – the instructions are on the board. And oh yes, there's extra credit to the students who have the best potion at the end of the hour!"

Tom was already unpacking his supplies. Without looking at Hermione, he said quietly, "Try to stay out of my way, alright? It will go much smoother if you just leave everything to me."

Hermione blinked at him. "I don't think so," she said indignantly. "We're _partners_, meaning that we work _together, _and _split up_ the work. I'm not as _incapable_ as you think." She grabbed her book and stormed huffily off towards the store-cupboard.

As she was measuring out a quantity of doxy eggs, Vega sidled over and whispered, "Sorry 'bout your bad luck with Tom. Elizabeth told me; you're already two for two!"

Hermione sighed and said sarcastically, "Yes, I'm just so lucky..." She stalked back over to Tom and slammed the ingredients on the table.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Why aren't we the moody one today…."

"Oh shut up and dice these roots."

He didn't say anything, and the two worked in silence for a while.

"You're adding too much Flobberworm mucus," he said suddenly. "The consistency will be too thick."

She glowered. "No I'm not. I'm just accounting for the fact that you didn't add nearly enough Sopophorus Bean juice. If you had crushed the beans with the flat side of your knife instead of chopping them, we would have had more than enough to achieve the proper _consistency_." Hermione glared at Tom, daring him to make a snide retort.

But once again, he didn't say anything; he simply stared at her, perhaps in shock at her blatant audacity. This irritated Hermione even further; her bad mood had moved from depression to frustration to full blown anger, and she wanted to vent her feelings out on someone. _Blast Tom Riddle! _She felt like a fight, and all he did was sit there, staring haughtily as if he didn't even care that she had just insulted him.

She opened her mouth to say something even more offensive, when Slughorn strode over peered into their cauldron.

"Mr. Riddle! Miss Parks! This potion is fabulous!" he said, clasping his hands together. "Full points!" He paused. "Oh, and Miss Parks, would you care to stay for a few minutes after class? I need to discuss something with you."

Hermione opened her mouth again to make up an excuse, but he swept away before she could say anything. _Slytherins! _ She thought angrily.

Seeing no way she could avoid Slughorn this time, she waited until the rest of the students left, and then walked hesitantly up to the professor in the front of the room. Trying to smile pleasantly, but probably failing, she asked, "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

He sat behind his desk and said, "Ah yes, Hermione…. I wanted to congratulate you on your fine job today in class. You have quite the way with potions, you know."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Oh, not really…."

"You're very skilled, my girl, very skilled indeed. I'd say you'll give Tom Riddle a run for his money, and he's my best student!" He leaned forward and smiled. "That's why I would like to extend an offer to you, one that I only extend to my best and brightest students."

She raised an eyebrow, knowing what was to come next.

"Every so often, these students and I get together. We sit, eat, talk; its great fun, you know. We're meeting tonight. Would you like to come?"

Of course she didn't. She had already had enough of the Slug Club to last a lifetime, and she certainly didn't want to be anywhere around Tom Riddle and his band of Slytherins when she didn't have to. "Well thank you, but…" she started.

"Really, I insist," he said. "I know you'll enjoy it, and everyone will really love the chance to meet you!"

"Actually, Professor…"

"I won't take no for an answer! Meet us tonight at seven in my office." He stood from the desk and escorted Hermione out, ignoring her protests.

"See you tonight, then!" he said cheerfully, as he gently pushed her out the door and closed it behind him.

That was too much for Hermione. Who did Slughorn think he was, forcing her to join his club? She had half a mind to go back in there and decline, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Instead, she stalked out into the corridor, where she was promptly greeted by her fellow Gryffindor classmates. They all seemed very interested to know what Slughorn had said.

"So? Did the old Slug ask you to join his club?" asked Roger. Then, seeing her face, he added, "Whoa, are you okay?"

Hermione nodded, still infuriated. "I'm fine. And yes, he asked me to come to the meeting tonight."

Vega sighed. "Oh, Hermione, we're so sorry. We've heard awful things about it from Roger."

This surprised her. "Roger's in the slug club?" Hermione asked sharply.

Roger glared at Vega. "Yes, and it's not _that _bad. There's a lot of Slytherins in the group, but I usually sit in the back, away from the lot. And plus, going to Sluggy's little meetings has its perks. I can get away with anything in his class."

Elizabeth laughed. "Like that time you added too many Billywig stings and blew up your cauldron – Slughorn didn't say anything. But the day before, Vega made the same mistake and he gave her a detention!"

Roger sighed happily. "Being well liked does have its perks," he joked.

"Oh shut up," Vega replied, crossing her arms. "Slughorn just likes you because you're a Quidditch player."

"Well that's not my problem. How many times have I told you to try out for the team?" He smiled smugly. "Besides, Elizabeth's in Quidditch, too, and Slughorn never notices her."

"Remember, that's a good thing," said Elizabeth, as they began walking down the corridor. "I don't have to put up with his nonsense." She turned to Hermione. "Anyway, what did you say? Are you going tonight?"

Hermione shrugged. "Did I really have a choice? If I don't go, he's going to hate me. Besides, I couldn't have said no even if I tried – he wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise."

Elizabeth grimaced. "Isn't that the Slughorn we all know and love…. Well have fun with him tonight."

The reached the first floor, and Hermione and Roger started up the staircase while Vega and Elizabeth kept walking. Roger stopped and called back to them. "Hey, where are you guys going?"

They slowed down and turned back to look at him. "The library, of course," Elizabeth answered.

Roger's jaw dropped. "The _library?_" he said incredulously. "_Already?_ But it's only the first day!"

Hermione scoffed. He sounded just like Ron.

"Yes, but we already have potions homework," Vega said, matter-of-factly. "And we said we'd meet Jess there after class." They started walking again.

"We'll see you at dinner!" Elizabeth called cheerfully over her shoulder.

Roger scowled and looked down at Hermione. "I don't suppose you'll be joining them, eh?" he said. "Or are you too smart to need to go study in the library."

Still annoyed, Hermione lead the way back up to the Gryffindor tower. "If you must know," she said, "I've already got a head start on potions during the summer. But there's nothing wrong with going to the library on the first day of classes."

He smiled wryly. "Great. We've got ourselves yet another bookworm. I swear, that's all girls are interested in nowadays."

She snorted. _Boys._


	10. Unanswered Questions

**Authors' note: **Ok, ok, it's been a while, we know. But we have some (more) excuses: first of all, ONE of us just happened to be gone on a THREE WEEK long vacation, halting our entire writing process. Then, the seventh book was released, which was AWESOME! However, that posed a new problem: after Deathly Hallows, our story is completely alternate universe. So, we were trying to decide if we should change our story to make it less AU, or continue writing it the way we originally intended. In the end, we decided to leave it the way it was, except we might throw in a few ideas from Deathly Hallows to make it more realistic. Anything we put in, though, would be really insignificant, and wouldn't spoil the book if you haven't read it yet.

And as always, thank you all for your reviews, signed and anonymous. They're really great!!

**Disclaimer:** Everything is JKR's.

* * *

Unanswered Questions

_Tick…tick…_

Hermione glanced at the large clock on Slughorn's wall for the umpteenth time. She groaned; it was 7:32 – how had she been here for only thirty-two minutes?

Though her bad mood had alleviated slightly since potions that afternoon, she still wished she could have avoided being anywhere near the potions master, or anyone else for that matter. All evening she had debated whether or not to show up, and she had been at the point of deciding that perhaps it would be better she just "forgot" to come, when Roger pulled her out of her chair by the fireside and dragged her downstairs to Slughorn's office.

_Tick… tick… tick… _

It was 7:33. Why was time moving so slowly?

Roger nudged her. Hermione's reverie broken, she glanced at him and then the rest of the group. Slughorn was leaning forward with a tray of cakes and a faltering smile on his face. "Er… Miss Parks," he apparently repeated. "Cauldron Cake?"

Hermione turned pink. "Oh… sure, thanks," she said, and accepted the offered pastry.

Since arriving at the party, Hermione had tried to stay out of the way and as unnoticed as possible; she was positively dreading the time when it would be For the past half hour, she had been lucky; after receiving a shower of compliments from Tom, he turned to some of the rest of the group to chat: First, Octavius Avery, a stringy looking boy who greatly resembled his Death Eater son. There were also several other Slytherins who looked as though they could also be early Death Eaters, but so far Slughorn had only spoken to Romanov Lestrange, who he warned, good-naturedly, to keep on top of his school work this year.

Then there were two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff seventh year, all whom Hermione did not know. Apparently, one of the Ravenclaws was a brilliant Quidditch player, as Slughorn was now grilling him about this year's team. Unlike the relaxed Slytherins, he looked positively delighted to be in attendance at one of the potion master's most illustrious parties.

_Tick… tick…_

Five more minutes had past, and the group had not yet made a dent in the deserts, nor had they drained all of the butterbeer. Hermione had a feeling that this party would last several hours, and unfortunately for her, that meant Slughorn would most certainly take the opportunity to interrogate every student he had invited.

Sure enough, after draining his next goblet of firewhiskey, he finally turned to Hermione.

"So," he said, grinning broadly. "Hermione Parks. Our new student. Tell us," he leaned forward, "how do you like it at Hogwarts? It must be intimidating for someone who has thus far only been home schooled."

It seemed as though he was working his way towards asking about her unexpected arrival. Hermione took notice, and answered vaguely, "It's very… nice here."

Slughorn sat back in his chair and seemed to consider her. "Miss Parks is very talented, you know," he told the rest of the group. "Outstanding track record. Extremely bright girl. I saw for myself today."

She forced a smile and said nothing.

"You learned all this at home?"

"Yes, sir."

He frowned. "You have a Muggle last name. You're mother was a witch, then?"

"Yes," she said, looking directly at Tom. "I am a half-blood."

Tom stared back at her passively, but didn't acknowledge anything she had said so far. Meanwhile, Slughorn continued his interview. "Tell me, what was your mother's name? Perhaps I knew her."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't," Hermione answered. "She was home schooled herself."

"Well you never know; I've known many witches and wizards who haven't attended Hogwarts. Especially if she was a friend of Dumbledore…."

"Believe me, you wouldn't know her," she said more forcefully. "My mother liked to keep to herself."

"Oh come now," Slughorn cried, "you've nothing to hide."

"I said you wouldn't have known her!" Hermione declared, her voice rising dangerously.

The two Ravenclaws exchanged looks. Beside her, Roger clapped a hand to his face to hide his grin. Slughorn, on the other hand, raised his eyebrows. Then, as though deciding to continue in a different direction, he said, "Can you tell us, then, why you came to Hogwarts? Why…?"

"Why my parents died, you mean?" Hermione asked. She looked around; all of the students were staring at her avidly. "No, I can't, actually. I'd rather not talk about them, thank you very much. And –" she added, as Slughorn had opened his mouth, "I'd also prefer not to talk about my arrival here. I don't remember much, and I what I do, I find very painful to talk about."

Everyone continued staring at her. Slughorn looked as though he had been slapped in the face. _Good, _Hermione thought, _perhaps he won't invite me to his next meeting._ Then to her dismay, he broke out into a large smile and said, "Oho! We have a little mystery on our hands! That's quite alright, my dear. I like to be a bit illusive myself! Maybe after a few more gatherings and –" he poured himself another firewhisky, "– drinks, you'll let us in on some of your secrets."

She looked at Roger in disbelief, who shrugged and helped himself to a biscuit.

Slughorn drank deeply from his glass and then continued, "Or perhaps you'll let something slip at Halloween. That is, assuming I recognize you."

"I – what?" Hermione asked completely taken aback.

"Why my annual Halloween party! It's charming, really, and exclusive to only Slug Club members and my dearest friends."

Since when did he hold Halloween parties? She cleared her throat. "What about the feast?"

Slughorn laughed. "The feast! Oh, this is much _better_ than Dippet's dingy old dinner! Anyone can go to _that. _But anyone who's _anyone _comes to mine. Did I mention it's a masque?"

All around her, heads nodded. Tom, looking particularly smug, seemed to be enjoying the exchange between Hermione and Slughorn.

"Well," Hermione said, "Why do you close it off to almost the entire school? What makes us better than anyone else?"

Slughorn looked as though he was enjoying himself just as much as Tom. "I didn't say _we _were better than anyone else… just more _privileged_."

"And why is that?" Hermione's temper was flaring again.

"Well you are the best and brightest of the school. I should think you deserve a little treat every now and then."

Hermione laughed coldly. "The best and brightest?" she asked. "Then where is the Head Girl? I don't see her here tonight, and I would think she would be considered one of the school's _best and brightest_."

Slughorn shifted uncomfortably. "Well, erm… Callette Quirke is… I mean to say…." He trailed off helplessly.

"What he means to say," interrupted Tom. "Is that he does not take people simply for their brains, or their talents at sports. He chooses students with a little something extra to recommend them. I hope you don't have a problem with that."

Hermione opened her mouth to say yes, yes actually she did have a problem with that, but Slughorn cut her off.

"Thank you, Tom," he said appreciatively. "Though Hermione may have a point. Perhaps I will open up my Halloween party to more students…" He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then turned to the Hufflepuff, "Ah, Ciceron Harkiss. I hope this year I find you well?"

As Slughorn continued to chat with Ciceron, Hermione turned to Roger; he was still trying to contain a grin. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he whispered. "I can't believe you just mouthed off to a teacher."

"Neither can I. Somehow he just managed to push all the wrong buttons," she whispered back, her anger abating. "Perhaps I over did it."

He chuckled, "I'll say."

Hermione sighed it looked like she was going to have to apologize. It wasn't that she disliked Slughorn, but did he have to interrogate her like that in front of everyone, especially when she knew so few details of her "new" life.

"Umm…sir," Hermione called tentatively. "Sir?" Slughorn turned abruptly to face her. "Umm…I'd like to apologize for my behavior before. I'm finding it difficult to accept my parent's deaths, seeing as they happened so recently. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so rude."

"Oh, no problem, no problem at all," he said, waving his hand. "Let bygones be bygones. Perhaps I should have shown a little more tact."

With that he turned back to his conversation with Harkiss, though perhaps a little more cheerfully.

"Smooth," Roger stated looking at Hermione. "You manage to insult him and he still likes you. Looks like you'll be able to get away with anything from now on," he joked.

"Oh stop it Roger," Hermione said a little irritably. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"Hey, don't snap at me. I'm just trying to lighten up the mood here."

As Roger reached for another cauldron cake, Hermione thoroughly wished she hadn't come. And, two hours later, as she drew the curtains around her four poster bed, she couldn't help but feel that the evening had been more trouble that it was worth.

xxxxxx

"Thank God that's over with," Roger sighed as he threw his bag into the corner and plopped down on an armchair. He mussed up his hair and closed his eyes, apparently relishing his newfound freedom.

"What's that?" asked Vega.

Roger opened his eyes. "Two words," he said. "Callette Quirke."

Vega and Elizabeth gave each other meaningful looks.

"Callette?" Hermione asked. "The Head Girl?"

He nodded and sank even further into the chair. "Please don't make me recount the experience."

"Oh please," said Laura, walking up to the group and sitting on the arm of Roger's chair. She looked at Hermione. "He's just being melodramatic."

Roger scowled. "Melodramatic?" he said incredulously. "I think not! You try spending more than ten minutes with that girl and you'll want to…" He gave a flamboyant sigh and gazed sadly off into the distance, as though traumatized.

"But aren't you just working on that Defense against the Dark Arts project?" said Hermione.

"_'just working on that Defense Against the Dark Arts project?' _ Hermione, you kill me! Callette Quirke is probably the most insufferable know-it-all that I have ever met."

Hermione frowned. "I resent that."

"Plus," he added, "She's a loud, obnoxious, attention-seeking little –"

"Roger!" Laura said warningly.

He glared at her. "Well, you know," he continued. "No wonder Slughorn never used to invite her to the Slug Club."

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "'Used to'?"

"Ah yes, I forgot to mention the worst part!" He rounded on Hermione. "Slughorn invited her to the next Slug Club meeting. Look what you did! Those were already bad enough, but she'll make things ten times worse!"

Vega smirked. "I thought you said it wasn't _that _bad." Then, turning to Hermione, "By the way, you never did tell us how the Slug Club went." Still wanting to forget the experience, Hermione chose to ignore her. "Come on, Hermione," Vega said pointedly. "It can't have been that bad."

"It was a disaster," Hermione groaned.

"I'll say," Roger added.

Elizabeth looked at them. "Why, what happened?" she asked.

"Hmm, Hermione," Roger said in mock seriousness. "Was it your blatant disregard for Slughorn's attention, or calling him out in the middle of the meeting?"

"Hermione, you didn't!" Elizabeth gasped.

"She did," Roger continued. "First she snapped at him when he asked about her family–"

"Hey, that was his fault" Hermione called.

"No interrupting," Roger stated, wagging his finger at Hermione. "Okay, where was I… Oh, yeah, then she starts arguing with him about who's eligible to join _his_ club and attend _his_ Halloween party. Only when he stopped talking did she actually think to apologize. And that's why Callette Quirke is now invited to his meetings!" He finished dramatically.

"I can't believe you actually had an effect on that man," he told Hermione after a few seconds pause.

"He's probably just trying to get on my good side, you know, so I'll spill all the juicy details of my past when I get tipsy at his Halloween soiree." She rolled her eyes.

"Or maybe," Laura said thoughtfully, "Slughorn had just forgotten her in the past, and you just reminded him."

"Somehow, I don't think so," he said. "Anyone who's ever talked with her would know that. Oh why couldn't she have been partnered with the person alphabetically before her?" He stole a glance at Vega.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Guess I'm just lucky," she joked.

"Oh, that reminds me," Roger said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "When I was in the library before, I ran into Riddle. He told me to give this to you."

Slightly surprised, Hermione took the note from Roger, and unfolded it to reveal small, cramped writing.

_Meet me in the library after class on Monday. We can discuss the matter of our upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts project._

_Tom Riddle_

Hermione looked up and saw everyone staring at her expectantly.

"Well?" prompted Laura.

"He wants to meet to work on our project," Hermione said, pocketing the note. Then she turned to Roger. "You see! You have nothing to complain about, working with Callette. I'm stuck with Tom Riddle, for the whole year, and in two classes!" The thought of this still gave her a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"She has a point," said Vega.

Roger stretched and yawned. "Well whatever. Enough talk of projects and people I hate. How 'bout a rousing game of Quidditch instead? What say you, Elizabeth?"

"Sure," she replied. "Do you want to play with us, Vega?"

Vega looked affronted. "When do I ever play Quidditch? You know I like to keep both feet on the ground."

"As do I," said Hermione, when they all turned to look at her.

Elizabeth shrugged and looked around the room. "Oi! Charlotte!" she called out. "You up for a game of Quidditch?"

One of the other seventh year girls paused in her conversation with the Harry-look-alike and said, "Do we have enough time before dinner?"

"Yeah," said Elizabeth. She leaned over and grabbed Hermione's wrist to look at her watch. "It's only four o'clock…. Hey, where'd you get this?"

She was staring at Hermione's watch.

_Oh no, _she thought. It was her digital watch from 1997. _They didn't have digital watches in the 1940's._

She quickly grabbed her hand from Elizabeth's grasp and pulled her sleeves down over her wrist. How had she been so stupid to forget her watch? It was sure to give her away, or at least make people more suspicious.

"It's… err… it's just something I found a while back," she answered lamely.

But Elizabeth looked really interested. "I've never seen anything like it before. It actually shows the numbers…. Is it magic or something else?"

"Um, no, its, well… hey, don't you have a Quidditch game to be playing?" Hermione jerked her head in Roger's direction.

Roger, Vega, and Laura were doing nothing to help. They too were just staring at Hermione in mild curiosity.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Then, to her immense relief, the rest of the Quidditch team came over and broke the silence.

"So are you guys ready?" asked a boy with blonde hair. "I've been itching to get on the field all week."

Roger and Elizabeth tore their gaze from Hermione. "Yeah," Elizabeth said. "Let's go."

Hermione sighed in relief as she watched them march off through the portrait hole. Apparently, Vega and Laura didn't feel the need to question her any further, as Laura ambled over towards a group of sixth years and Vega took out a large textbook to read.

Seizing the opportunity, Hermione dashed up to her dormitory unnoticed and tore off her watch. She glared at it, as though blaming it for blowing her cover.

"That was really close," she muttered to herself.

Hermione opened her borrowed trunk and pulled out the bag she had been carrying while falling through the window. Though worn and tattered, the bag itself was rather inconspicuous. Inside, however, were a variety of objects that would look quite out of place in the 1940's. She had some spell-checking quills, for instance, that had not been invented yet. There was also a bottle of ink that had the manufacturers' date stamped on its side.

She continued to dig through the bag, and found even more date-specific items that she had overlooked until now: there was a Chocolate Frog she had never eaten, and a receipt from Honeydukes. She opened the chocolate frog, and hoped the card wouldn't give anything away….

_Oh dear._

It was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's graying, fifty-year older face smiling up at her, and a description of Dumbledore's achievements…. _"Albus Dumbledore…current Headmaster of Hogwarts…famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945…" _This card would sure to spark plenty of questions.

And then, of course, was her copy of _Hogwarts: a History, _the book she had shown Dumbledore to prove she was from the future. Unfortunately, this book would also prove she was from the future to just about anyone who would find it.

_Well then I mustn't let that happen, _she thought, stuffing everything back in the bag. She supposed that she hadn't thought her possessions from the future would be a problem because up until just recently, there had been no one to snoop around her room. Although Tom was currently involved in some serious dark magic, she was sure he would have no reason to look through her trunk. But now, with dozens of Gryffindors milling around the common room, she had to be careful; she needed to hide her possessions, and hide them well.

For one wild moment, she thought that it would be best to just burn everything.

Then she smirked and shook her head. _No, of course that wouldn't work. Where would I burn it?_ And she couldn't Vanish or transfigure it… that would be too risky. She'd have to hide it – perhaps in the Room of Requirement. _Yes, that might work. No one would find it there…_

Hermione sat with her bag in her hands, contemplating the matter, when suddenly she heard footsteps right outside the door. Quickly, she stuffed the bag back in the open trunk and closed it shut. Just then the door opened and Vega walked in.

"Hey, what are you up to?" she asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said a bit too quickly.

Vega raised an eyebrow but didn't reply.

"Well, I was wondering, did you want to get a jump on that essay for Charms?"

"Sure," Hermione answered. "Just let me get my book."

"Alright," Vega said turning to leave, still eyeing her curiously. "I'll meet you downstairs."

As the door shut Hermione groaned in frustration. 1944 wasn't turning out to be any easier than 1997 had been.


End file.
